Scars
by TurtleHeart
Summary: Severly injured from his fall, rebellious, teenage Will learns a thing or two about himself, his father, and the past by hearing the stories behind his father's many scars in order to give himself a future.  Chapter Five added.
1. You Will Never Make Me Proud

**FYI: i dont have ownership over these wonderful characters except for the ones you dont recognize to the trilogy**

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Not a word. Not so much as a "hello" or "goodnight" or "I love you" or "Papa". Nine days and he had not spoken a word to his father, nor did he have the desire to speak with his father. His father was just going to have to apologize to him before he would speak a word because it was his father who started the whole mess to begin with.

Feeling eyes gazing upward to look at him, Will lowered his head while his palm furiously rubbed at the back of his neck. There was no itch upon the back of his neck, not even a small tingle to make him uncomfortable. No, it was an action he needed to avert his eyes toward the person looking upon him without that certain person knowing he was looking back.

In the rigging, just below the crosstree to the mizenmast, Will could make out the figure opposite him leaning on the rail against the bow of the ship. His dark hair blew ragged behind him in his ponytail, arms stretched out across the rail, ankles crossed, and cerulean, sapphire eyes looking directly at him with longing and pleas.

Through with "itching his neck", the teenager settled himself further into the ropes, twisting his arms re-through in a more comfortable position and heels further into the hole. He knew there was no real threat to being in the rigging sitting there like he was. After all, he was nearly seventeen and still small enough to curl anywhere.

Laughter rang below him causing his dark eyes to narrow and become darker. Dirk. Just thinking of his cousin's name caused his muscles to tense and teeth to grit behind curled lips. He would forever call it unfair. Reminiscing deeper into that day, his eyes didn't see the line of the horizon. Instead, he saw the line of the marble floor and oak door.

Hauling the rest of his sailing necessities, Will walked down the long, main hall with the sack over his shoulder. Like he always did, he turned his head to the left to look down the stairs.

Dirk was standing by the door rummaging through a chest.

"Cuz, you know you shouldn't go through things that don't belong to you," Will told him.

"This is mine," said Dirk, digging his arm deeper into the chest.

"Why is it down here?" inquired Will, allowing the sack to slip from his arm onto his sea chest.

"Because I'm going with you," replied Dirk.

"No you aren't," Will snapped. "They agreed we would be sixteen the first time we both went sailing. I went the summer of my sixteenth birthday. You're still fourteen."

"I know," said Dirk. He pulled his spyglass from the chest and placed it on top. Satisfied, he shut the chest.

"This isn't fair," Will told him.

"Don't complain to me," said Dirk, beginning to walk away. "My father said I could come."

"Your father is coming too?" asked Will, incredulous. He threw his arms in the air. "What the hell?"

"William," Bill scolded as he walked through the door.

"Why is Dirk coming? Dirk is only fourteen. You and Gabriel agreed sixteen," snapped Will.

"Technically, you were fifteen when you went for your first sailing adventure," corrected Bill. "Two, I'm not Dirk's father am I? I said you would be sixteen your first time. Had Gabe raised Dirk on the sea to my disapproval I would not have told him otherwise. I'm not Dirk's father, I'm your father."

"I'm beginning to wish you weren't my father," Will told him.

"Will," said Bill, with a heavy sigh, clearly having enough of his son's teenage moodiness. "Grow up and act like you are nearly seventeen. Dirk is more mature than you are. In fact, that is the reason Gabriel said he was taking Dirk with him. He doesn't have to worry about Dirk like I have to manage you."

"Manage me?" said Will. "So now you manage me?"

"I certainly did not raise you to behave like this," said Bill.

"And how did you raise me?" wondered Will, folding his arms across his chest.

"I raised you to be a good man to always do what is right," replied Bill Turner. "You are not that. You rebel against everything. If I told you to put on clothes you would walk naked. You start fights at school. Do you know how much convincing and pleading your grandfather and mother and I had to do to convince Headmaster not to expel you? Your school grades have slipped. Will you're so smart yet you rank last in your class. Every weekend you go drinking with men. I say men because they are at least twenty years old. When you're home, you sneak away and start more fights. Gambling is your daily pastime here, not to mention you drink as much as your grandfather does. You hardly talk to your siblings and cousin and me. When I talk to you, I feel like I'm talking to a complete stranger. I don't know what to do with you anymore Will." His voice began angered then became a plea. He walked forward to gently grab Will's hands and hold them tightly in his. "What happened to my Will? Last summer you and I were running around and sitting in the tree house and staying up late talking about nothing and sleeping in my arms and sailing together. What happened to my Little One?"

Will backed out of his father's grasp. "I realized something father: I don't want to be raised like all of you want me to."

"And how do you think we want to raise you William," inquired Bill, curious.

"I don't want to be noble," replied Will.

"Nothing can change that Will. You were born a noble and third in line for the seat. There are differences between a normal sixteen year old and a noble sixteen year old," said Bill.

"I noticed," said Will. He looked at Dirk who was sitting on the chest pretending to ignore what he just heard. "Why does he have to come? It's not fair."

"Will, we just went through this," reminded Bill.

"Who's the damn cockheaded idiot who had the bright idea to bring him along?" asked Will.

"Your father," replied Bill simply.

Will looked at him and gave a nod of his head. "Yeah, you are a damn cockheaded fool anyway," he noted as he turned to walk out the door.

"William Alexander Jonathan Turner!" called Bill, grabbing his son's arm.

Dirk sought this as something he did not want to witness. He was there for one of their fights once and that terrified him for quite a while. When Will got mad was one thing, but when his uncle was upset, that was a good time to hide from the world.

Will pulled out of his father's grasp.

Not letting him get away this easy, Bill grabbed his son's ponytail and pulled backwards.

Will cried out in pain as he twisted into the grasp. He looked at his father with curled lips and narrow eyes burning with rage.

"You listen to your father William," said Bill. Will again tried pulling away, but whimpered silently as the hold was tightened on his hair. "The more you struggle the more it will hurt."

"Typical, all you ever do is hurt me these days," noted Will.

"If you would just listen to me," began Bill.

"Just because you are my father doesn't mean I have to listen to you," Will told him.

"It's called respect, something you used to know," said Bill.

"Will you let go of my hair," Will demanded, the hold beginning to give him a sharp headache.

"I will not be spoken to like that young man, especially by you," said Bill.

"I'm not going to apologize no matter how hard you pull on my hair," Will flat out told him.

"Not expecting you to son," admitted Bill.

"Then let me go," Will told him. "Why do you have my hair anyway?"

"I'm just trying to be your father and teach you a lesson young man," said Bill.

"Your lessons never work," reminded Will.

Shaking his head, Bill released his son's hair. He didn't know what to say to Will. Calling him son was odd. This was not his son. The day after Will's sixteenth birthday, something changed in him. Something dark and unknown came over Will. Literally overnight, his cheery, happy go lucky, loving son became dark, rebellious, and moody. He hardly saw Will's beautiful smile. For nearly a year, he tried to get inside Will's head. The more he tried, the harder he fought for his son the further Will pulled the two of them apart.

"You know something Will?" asked Bill.

"Enlighten me oh master," replied Will sarcastically.

"When I was sixteen I would have given the world to please my father and make him proud of me," began Bill.

"Don't start with your little guilt trip of be happy you have your father because I didn't," pleaded Will.

Bill shook his head. "Not at all. I was merely going to tell you that I am ashamed to call you my son. You will never make me proud Will. Never."

"I doubt that," said Will.

He suddenly flinched and eyes grew wide as his father struck him hard across the cheek and grabbed his arms tightly, pulling him to his tip toes.

"I don't doubt it. I've had it with you William. I'm done. If you want your father, you have to come ask for him. I'm through with this job of being your father. You will never, never make me proud."

Once he was released, Will watched his father grab the rest of the sacks and leave the manor, slamming the door. His eyes shut as a burn coated his blood. He felt sick to his stomach as adrenaline pumped through him. Tears formed in his eyes as his eyebrows raised high. The mouth that never showed emotion slightly widened. Around him, the world was silent. His body was quivering.

He wanted to fall to the ground and cry. His father spoke every word the truth. Bill Turner wasn't lying to him and he would never make his father proud. That was all he ever wanted to do, make his father proud.

Will's eyes returning to the horizon in front of him he realized there were tears on his face gliding with the lines formed. Praying no one had seen the tears, he quickly removed them from his face with his coat sleeve. How long had he been crying? He knew why he was crying but for how long? Would he ever make his father proud? There had to be something he could do to please him. He knew he screwed up the past year. He kept messing up everything. When he wanted to talk to his father, he couldn't find it in him. Looking at his father, he knew he was needed. His father wanted him back and he wanted to be held in his father's arms.

He turned to where his father was standing moments before. Not seeing him, his head turned all around searching for the father. He found him at the helm with his brother talking and Dirk in Gabriel's arms.

Dirk looked so happy with his father's arms around him. Something must have been said because Gabriel lowered his head to kiss his son's hair then pull him closer. Dirk reached up to clutch his father's arms and leaned his head into his father's shoulders. The two of them were perfect together. Nothing ever went wrong. Well, it went wrong once.

It went wrong when he brought his cousin home two years ago. Dirk developed influenza that became pneumonia. At age twelve, Dirk nearly lost his life in a month long struggle to fight the illness and then several months after to regain his strength. Gabriel thought he was going to lose his son and Will saw how desperate his uncle was. Gabe was never a true religious man, but he prayed every night for his son's soul and went to church every Sunday morning. He never left Dirk's side even after they told him Dirk wouldn't live.

After Dirk made his recovery, the father and son loved each other more and more. Because Dirk held on, he had strength and his father was proud of him. Gabriel wasn't afraid to tell Dirk how much he loved him and was proud of him. In fact, everyday Dirk was told he was loved and proud to be a son.

Will looked away and leaned his head into the rigging. What did he have to do to make it up to his father? What would it take to recover a year lost of himself? He screwed up so badly. There had to be something he could do to please his father and have things go back to the way they were or at least become close to it. Did he have to nearly kill himself to make his father realize how much he loved him? Did he have to get back to the top of his class? Did he have to apologize? What was it?

"What do I have to do?" he whispered to himself, allowing the tears to retrace the marks he removed moments before.

He remained in the rigging well past sundown. The cool air chilled him and caused him to shiver slightly. No one was on deck but he suspected the man on night watch was sitting somewhere. One person was easy enough to pass by. He climbed down the ropes and began walking to his quarters.

"How long before we talk Will?"

Stopping dead in his tracks at his father's voice, Will stared ahead of him. His reply was a shrug. He didn't know what else to do. His father made the first initiative just like he wanted.

"I need you back in my arms Little One. Nine days has been long enough. I can't look on you every waking moment waiting for you. I sit beside you at night and hold your hand and play with your curls and kiss you. I can't keep doing that."

_It wasn't a dream_. Will thought to himself. He dreamed many times his father was singing his lullaby and caressing his forehead. _It was real_.

The voice spoke softly, slowly loudening with footsteps approaching. "Why can't we just talk? You and I could talk about everything and nothing. We were so close Little One. You never were afraid to talk to me. Why can't you talk now? You know you can tell me anything. All I want to know is what has been troubling you since you turned sixteen. Can you answer me that? Let me get inside your head."

Will watched as hands and arms wrapped around his front from behind. Only his father held him like that and often it was unexpected. He should have always expected it, but every time it startled him, this time most of all. The arms pulled him back, into a warm body. A shiver went through him as the warmth touched him. His head slowly fell back, into his father's shoulder and slightly into his warm neck. He felt his father's cheek press against a small amount of his forehead. Shutting his eyes, he relished in this feeling.

The last time his father held him was when he came down with a terrible cold. He nearly coughed his lungs out one night and choked and gasped for air because he couldn't breathe. Hearing him, Bill sat on his bed with him and held him the entire night, helping him get through it

"You don't want to get inside my head," he found himself whispering as he opened his eyes.

"Yes I do," a voice whispered back.

"You would never understand," Will told him as he pulled out and continued walking.

Not turning his head, he knew how his father was standing. Most likely, he would be standing with an expression of hopelessness and longing on his face with tears forming in his eyes and his arms still in the air like he was holding him. He had seen it before.

And he was every bit right.

Sleepily, the sixteen year old walked on deck. He was expecting the warm sunshine to greet him as it always did. Instead, cold damp air and dark, lightly rumbling sky welcomed him to the new day. He groaned as he looked at the sky. Lightning flashed among the clouds and bolts touched the sea in the distance. The ship was rocking abnormally a bit too much. He walked to the side of the rail and looked at the condition of the sea.

Rollers and white capped waves was the abnormal condition. The waves nearly went to the rail when the ship sailed into them. Watching them, he felt queasy and that was something he hardly felt, but perhaps it was because he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.

Not too far from him, he heard a sound that gave his stomach more sickness. His father stood against the rail with his head over the side. Every few seconds his body retched forward as he vomited.

Gabriel approached his big brother and rubbed his back in comfort with a sad smile on his face.

Will's eyes lowered in grief. His father was an amazing sailor, more amazing than any other in his eyes, but the moment the seas roughened his stomach was anything but amazing. Half the time during storms, despite his agility and quick reactions, he was on the deck, for he needed to retch into the sea every few minutes.

After a bit, Bill lifted his head and stood back. He pressed his palm against his mouth and shut his eyes. His face was ghastly white and he trembled slightly. He walked forward a few steps, unfortunately, as the ship took a wave that caused all to reset his footing. Those few steps left him with his head immediately over the rail again.

Hating the sight of his father in pain, Will shut his eyes and turned away. He personally had no problem with the sea. The most he ever felt was queasy on occasion and the seas had to be quite rough for that.

As he walked to the helm, the ship sailed into a wall of water. Literally. Darkness consumed all. The time of day appeared sundown when it should have been bright. Thunder crashed and lightening struck blindingly. A great flash consuming everything and a clap of thunder hurting Will's ears immediately afterward caused him to jump a foot in the air and squeak. He joined his cousin at the helm.

"I hate storms," Dirk admitted, frightened.

Will wrapped an arm around him. "You'll be fine as long as you stay on deck."

"And as long as the ship doesn't capsize," said Dirk.

"Don't worry, our fathers are brilliant sailors," Will told him confidently.

"Expect yours is currently puking his guts out at the moment," noted Dirk.

Will gave a nod of his head.

"You two get on deck and secure everything!" Gabriel called as he and his shaky brother rushed to them.

Each grabbed as side of the wheel.

"Go!" Bill told them.

With a nod, Will grabbed his cousin's hand.

"Will, I've never been sailing before and we're in a hurricane," said Dirk.

"Hurricanes happen in warmer water Dirk," Will told him. "This is the English Channel. It's always storming here."

The cousins secured a cannon. Above them, along with the thunder, the wood creaked. Both looked up.

"Will, I'm so scared," admitted Dirk quietly. He sunk against the cannon and held on.

Will noticed his cousin's tears mixing with the rain and his body trembling. He knelt beside him to set his hands on his shoulders. "You will be fine Dirk. I promise. Nothing is going to happen to you. Our fathers aren't going to let us die. They know what to do." He wiped his cousin's green eyes with his sleeve. "Everything will be all right."

Feeling a little better, but not brave enough to let go yet, Dirk nodded. He weakly smiled at his cousin.

"Secure that sheet!"

Will's head shot up suddenly. The mainsail was blowing in the breeze, attached to nothing. He remembered something his father told him. Only the bravest and most skilled of sailors dared climb into the rigging during a storm. This was the opportunity he needed. If he could secure that sail and impress his father, perhaps he would be proud of him.

"Stay here," he told his cousin.

"I'm not moving," Dirk said.

Will, despite the slippery deck and rough sea, ran. He nearly fell several times before he was able to climb on the rail and get a hold of the rigging. He drew a deep breath and began climbing. Listening to his uncle's advice, he stayed close to the ropes as well as he could without slowly climbing, for the rigging was the most dangerous place to be in a storm. One eye was kept on the sea and the other on the task ahead of him. With an eye on the sea, he could predict when to halt and hold on tight.

At the crosstree, he swung onto the beam. He looked down. The distance was higher than he remembered before, or perhaps it was because the bow of the ship was low and the stern high. His heart was pounding blood and adrenaline through him. Thinking about nothing else and timing movement with the waves, he took a step onto the beam. He couldn't be too slow about it; this was one sail they needed to keep the ship steady.

He reached out to grab the loose pulley. A wave knocking against the ship caused him to lose his footing. He shrieked for a moment then grabbed the rope on the crossbeam. His eyes looked down. A fall from this height on wooden deck would surely kill him. Tears cascaded from his eyes, as he was petrified. All that was saving him from death was, ironically, a death grip on the rope.

His father's voice came to his mind. _You will never, never make me proud_.

Determination setting in more than fear, Will's eyes narrowed at the pulley freely blowing in the wind. He pulled himself to his knees on the crossbeam. One hand remained intertwined on the ropes. He had to time this with the swell and wind.

Hearing voices, a familiar voice, his concentration was lost. His head lowered, until his father's figure was in sight. He loved his father more than anything in the world, including his fiancée and siblings.

Bill Turner wiped away the rain dripping in his face from his hair then immediately returned his grip to the wheel along with his brother. In those blue eyes was more determination than Will had never seen before. Something was causing this father to be more determined than he ever had been in his life. Was it to keep the ship steady? Or was it to keep the ship steady to save his son's precious life?

Will smiled softly until something came close by his head.

The pulley!

Quick reflexes that he himself didn't know he bore reached out and grabbed the device attached to the flapping sail. It took a moment for him to realize he did hold the pulley in the palm of his hand. Grinning in victory and pride, he pulled back and held the metal tightly against his chest.

The ship jolted forward, taking him off guard but only enough to lose a few heartbeats to fright. He searched around him for the one line hanging loose, for it was not wound through the pulley. Things suddenly became increasingly difficult. He was attempting to keep his balance while the massive sheet pulled with the wind. A sixteen year old against an entire sail through storming winds. He was not going to be the decided victor, but that wasn't enough to give up hope.

Lightning flashed as his head turned to the right. There it was. The single line that hung low on the crosstree yet remained attached to where it should on the ship was vivid in the light.

Shifting his position, he secured the pulley in his left hand, the hand that was beneath the secured rope on the beam. He leaned out his right hand to grab the hanging line.

It was too easy. Something had to go wrong. He wound the line through the pulley and tied the proper knot before pulling with all his might and strength. Soon, the mainsail was in the location it should have been and the ship felt more safe and secure.

Grinning from ear to ear, his eyes turned back to the helm. The brothers' heads were raised toward him, right at him in fact. He saw the smile on his father's face. The smile was proud. He made his father proud. Perhaps they could get back together and have the relationship he ruined. His father was still proud of him.

All of a sudden a great jolt sent Will off balance on the cross tree. He turned his head and reached his arm out for the beam. The beam was growing further and further from his outstretched hand. Why was it so far from him? His answer came in the form of a cry of pain he thought not possible.

**"WILL! NOOO!"**

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**A Note from TurtleHeart: i dont usually leave with cliffhangers 'cause they irritate me, but i find it appropirate in this story. dont worry, there will be an update within the week. reviews in the beginnings are, as always, appreciated.**


	2. There Must be Another Way

Something was making a steady sound near him. Someone perhaps rather than something? He didn't know. Everything hurt. He was barely conscious but he knew his entire body hurt. His chest and right arm worst. They felt as though they were being pounded by a great hammer mercilessly. Someone whimpered and moaned in pain. He knew it was himself, for he felt nothing more than pain. A sudden presence and unevenness beside him told him he wasn't alone. He was lying on soft things. Pillows perhaps? It did smell like flowers from a beautifully and carefully planted garden, but it smelled of something else as well, something foul. Medicinal herbs and alcohol. He knew the smell of alcohol anywhere, but why the medicinal herbs.

There was a faint tapping on his shoulder. He thought he heard his name being called. By the nature of his calling, he knew it was a small child because the voice was small and shy. There were no children on the ship. Why was there a child calling his name? Soft, gentle pressure was applied to both sides of his hand. Tiny fingers wrapped around his teenage hands.

He wanted to open his eyes so badly, but he couldn't. He was so weak. Breathing hurt. Each inhalation sent icy, burning pain further into his chest. The touch to his hand was calming though. He had to open his eyes. Something wasn't right.

His eyes cracked open for a moment. What he saw for that moment was a dark, uneven circle above white and above the circle a cream. He attempted again. More successful, as his eyes halfway opened, he saw a blurry image of a human being. His father perhaps? The hair color was the same. It had to be his father. Clearly, he was injured somehow and his father was sitting beside him despite having given up. The backdrop behind his father wasn't of a ship. Instead of brown boards it was cream and an opening of blue outlined with the color of wood and a blurry table piled with jars and white directly in front of him. Wait a moment, the eyes looking at him were brown, not blue. This person wasn't his father. And the face was round, like a baby's and the hair was short and, and…

"Aidan," Will softly called, awfully groggily and not all conscious.

The head nodded up and down. "Uh huh."

"What you doing here?" Will asked softly.

"Waiting for my biggest brother to wake up," replied the five year old.

"What are you doing on the ship?" wondered Will.

"Will, I'm home. You are too," whispered Aidan.

Now more conscious, Will blinked. His baby brother was in complete focus. Aidan was sitting in a chair with his head on the bed looking at him with mirror eyes. Behind Aidan, was a table containing many bottles and jars and folded cloths. Further into the background, revealed wooden flooring and cream walls and an open window with a gentle summer breeze flowing in the curtains.

He examined his situation more closely, but not quite to focus. There he was, lying on his bed in his room. His right leg was higher than the other, resting on what appeared to be a pillow by the shape beneath his favorite blue blanket. Beside him, his arm was above the blanket also resting on a pillow. His heavily bandaged arm. Something was supporting his forearm, for his arm did not usually look like a rectangle. The white bandages began at his knuckles and extended well past his elbow. His eyes following the blanket that was wrapped to under his chest gave sight to his more heavily bandaged chest. As he moved his head, he felt pain and slowly pulled his hand from between his brother's, he touched the bandages that nearly covered the top of his eyes that widened in fright. His entire forehead and more was wrapped and the cloth wound that thick around his head. From his chest, the white wrapped around his shoulder as well. Past his shoulder was the source of the steady sound.

Bill Turner sat in an armchair, head leaned back and tilted. His attire, from what Will saw, was trousers, a tunic and his favored blue wool robe. His sleeping eyes were wrought with pain and many nights and days without sleep it appeared. Dark circles rounded his eyes. Each breath was heavy, yet very slow giving sign to how deep of a sleep he appeared to be in.

"Daddy hasn't sleep in a long time," Aidan answered before he could ask. "He was too busy looking after you. Uncle Alex he would give him something to make him sleep if he didn't sleep sometime soon. He fell asleep on his own."

Will opened his mouth. "Ow." Not what he meant to say, but it was what came out.

"It looks ow," agreed Aidan, nodding his head. "I'll wake daddy." He carefully crawled from Will's side, ran around the bed, and began poking his father in the forehead.

It took a few minutes, but Bill's head moved from the poke and eyes heavily opened. He blinked and rubbed the sleep out of them, immediately sitting up right as though he was proving to himself he didn't fall asleep. "Aidan, what is it?"

"Will's awake and he said 'ow'," replied Aidan.

Beside Bill, away from his eyesight, came a soft laugh. His head and body whipped around with a gasp. Altogether, his steady breathing stopped. As his eyes widened they filled with tears and in an instant, those tears were falling gently down his cheeks. He reached a hand out to brush Will's cheek, touching the corner of the small, painful smile.

He gently leaned his body over Will and pulled his son into a gentle embrace.

If Will could sigh, he would have.

"I love you," a voice came from between his neck and the pillow. "I love you so much. I love you Little One. I love you. I love you."

Warm lips pressed gentle kisses into his neck and worked their way up to his cheek and forehead then a warm palm cupped his cheek and remained there. His left hand slowly pulled across the blue blanket and into the air before resting on his father's hand which immediately clasped the teenager's hand into both of his.

Will looked into his father's sobbing eyes not understanding why he was like this. He watched as the near black despair darkening the sapphire became lighter with joy and hope and a thousand prayers answered.

"What happened?" he asked after a few minutes.

Shutting his eyes with a heavy sigh, Bill's forehead creased with pain as he attempted to squeeze the image from his head, but could not.

"_WILL! NOOO!" he heard himself scream, cry, shriek, yell._

_His hands slipped from the wheel as his feet ran as fast as they allowed him. The world around him remained the same, but his son falling slowed and his haste to reach him was slower yet. He watched Will slam against the cannon, hitting hard on his right side, then fall back onto deck where he vanished from sight temporarily._

_Forever it seemed before he was able to collapse beside his son. Scared, frightened, terrified, horrified, he did not want to move his child for fear of hurting him further. He was lying on his back, one leg twisted under the other. The right arm, bent horrible wrong, fell far from his body. Through the unbuttoned front of his tunic, great, black bruising consumed the young man's chest. The same followed for his forehead above his right eye. All color seemed to have been struck from him, for he was a pale as a dead body. Rain poured onto his face and he did not move. Nothing seemed to move._

_Finally, Bill reached a quivering hand forward to wrap around his son's left wrist. His heart sang with joy. There was a faint, slow pulse. He did not realize he had pulled his son's broken body into his arms until he realized he was screaming and pleading into his son's curls._

"Daddy," Will's voice called.

Snapping out of it, Bill looked at his awake son's eyes. He swallowed hard and managed two words from his mouth. "You fell."

Will nodded his head a few times then grit his teeth together and cringed in pain as a breath was stolen from him.

"Shh," Bill hushed, pressing a kiss onto Will's cheek before moving to the side Aidan was seated. He quickly and shakily measured, poured, and mixed powders together in a glass. "Here drink this."

Will parted his lips as his head was tilted, allowing the foul liquid to collect in his mouth before he swallowed it into his body. A few swallows later, his head was gently lying once again in his pillows.

"Night, night biggest brother," said Aidan.

"Night Aidan," said Will. He looked at his father, feeling the effects of the plant beginning to quickly affect him, probably the result of his weak body. "I love you too," he managed to say before his eyes closed and nothingness consumed all.

The nothingness around him didn't last long. His eyes shut then a moment later opened again. Unlike before, his eyes opened wide with pain as pressure was applied to his leg and he cried out.

"Aaahhh! Oww!"

"I am going to kill you," his uncle's voice said clearly.

Will looked at Alexander. The usual warm brown eyes were black with anger and, fortunately, fright. His normally smirking lips were pursed in anger and moving into several words that made no sounds. Deciding not to speak, he turned his attention back to examining Will's leg. He applied less than gentle pressure on the bone.

"Stop," Will pleaded.

"I apologize William, but someone must ensure that the bone he healing correctly and the only way I'm going to know if it is healing as is should is to feel the angle," Alexander told him. His fingers clenched as he looked at him. "Are you bloody mad William? What the hell were you thinking? You are sixteen. This is the second time you have gone sailing and you decide you are skilled enough to climb onto mainmast and secure the sail in the middle of a bloody storm. This is the stupidest thing you have done in the past year. I thought starting that fight was stupid but this gets the gold crown for the King of Stupidity. None of the rebelling you have done in the past year compares to this. You are so bloody stupid. Will, I—"

"Alex, what are you—"

Will's eyes widened with joy as he slowly moved his head to his bedroom door.

Her mouth formed in the word "fussing", Charlotte stood in the doorway unable to move. The loose golden curls fell across her shoulders. Her brown eyes identical to her son's gazed into his eyes. With a gasp, she rushed forward and pulled the teenager into her arms.

"Ow!"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Will!" Charlotte cried as she set her little boy back on his pillows. She covered him with his blanket.

"I say he deserved it," said Alexander.

"Alex!" Charlotte scolded.

"He did it himself Lottie," noted Alexander.

A complete change came over Charlotte's mind, recalling the story her husband told her. She looked at Will and, with the expression on his mother's face, he knew this wasn't going to be a very good talk. "Will, I have one question for you before I lose my temper. What did you want to prove?"

"I wanted," began Will, but a sharp slap across his face from his mother stopped him.

"I don't care what you were trying to prove young man. If it can't be proved with simple words then there is no possible way it can be proved. Do you know how much sleep I've gotten in the past two weeks? None! Do you know what it was like hearing your father screaming for my brother and when I rushed out to see why, there you were wrapped in a blanket in his arms? I thought you were dead Will. We nearly did lose you. I thought every moment you were in here and I was stuck out there you were going to die. Your uncle and Ewan are still trying to fix you up and it's been two weeks. Do you know what they had to do to you to keep you alive Will? Do you? You have a metal coin in your head. Do you have any idea what that felt like being told my son, my sixteen year old son has a metal coin in his head and his arm is in three pieces and he still could lose his leg and half his ribs are broken? Do you know what it is like to be afraid to come in here for fear of seeing you without a leg? Will do you?"

"Do you know what it was like falling?" Will asked his mother. "Do you know what it was like to turn thinking you could grab the wood and watch it rise further and further away from you? Do you know what it's like to hear someone screaming your name and then nothing? Do you?"

Without another word, Charlotte sat on the bed beside him. She gently took his hand and kissed the top of his palm. "No I don't Will, and I hope you never have to know what it's like again," she whispered.

"Me too," admitted Will.

"You're alive!" Lily shrieked. She ran across the room and pounced on her brother.

Will's face lost all color. He squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth to keep the scream within his mouth at all possible costs.

Hardly noticing, Lily continued to squeeze her arms around her brother. Unfortunately, she was lying on the wrong side of her brother's body to be lying across him.

"Get off me," Will managed to tell her through clenched teeth.

"What?" wondered Lily, looking at her brother. "Oh, Will, you're so hurt."

"That's because you're lying on my broken arm," Will told her.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" cried Lily, moving completely away from her brother's body altogether.

"Bad Lily," Andrew scolded and emphasizing that his sister was bad by pointing a finger at her like his parents did when scolding him.

"You tell her little brother," said Will with an attempted smile.

It was apparent when Dirk walked in the room because he simply walked up to his cousin and gave him a good hit in the face.

"Dirk, that was not necessary," Gabriel told him.

"Yes it was," Dirk said, clearly emphasizing every word of it. "Do you know how horrible it was to—"

"I know, I know. I already went through this with mum," said Will.

"Well, then I'm going to go through with it with you anyway. Different perspective. She wasn't there remember?" said Dirk.

"You were the one hiding on deck. Remember Dirk? So how did you see it?" asked Will.

"I was not hiding," Dirk told him, shamed Will would say such a thing.

"You were too," Will said.

Dirk opened his mouth to speak.

"Both of you enough," Richard said as he too entered the room. "Dirk, leave it be. William, you shouldn't be speaking. You need to rest."

Will looked at them all as best as he could with his injuries. "So, suddenly, I get hurt and all of you love me again?"

Every one of them looked at each other then leaned over Will. Each one was shouting and scolding something different at him. All the mix of shouts, curses, words, and feelings made no sense in Will's mind. He couldn't understand any of it. He wasn't sure if they loved him or hated him. All they were doing was yelling at him. Between the physical pain his injuries were giving him and the mental pain he was receiving from the screaming, he didn't know what to do. It was all overwhelming him. He turned his face into his pillow, attempting to hide away from them. Things seemed only to worsen as they shouted louder, but one voice stood above them all.

"Stop it!" Aidan shrieked at the top of his little lungs. Everyone stopped in mid word and turned to him. "You made Will cry."

He laid himself beside his brother's left side of his body and nuzzled his face into Will's neck.

Noticing this was not a good thing, Bill began pushing them all out of the room. "All right, all right everyone out. Father and son time. I need to have a little talk father and son to Will. Lottie, don't look at me like that. You know I am his father and sons connect better to their father than they do mother. Out, out, out." He pushed them through the door and shut it. When he turned, he noticed he forgot one person, but decided to let him be where he was.

Little Aidan was curled against his brother tighter than he was before since Will's arm was around him tightly. Will's cheek was against his brother's forehead and Aidan was wiping his biggest brother's face clean of the tears.

Bill smiled at this little scene. Despite these two were over eleven years in age difference, they connected better than Will and Dirk did at times and the world thought those two were twins. Aidan provided a comfort to Will no one could and in the past year of rebelling Will decided to put him through, Aidan was the only one to bring his brother back for all of them.

"Do you hurt?" he asked Will as he resumed his armchair place beside Will.

Will's eyes looking at him said everything, but when his father moved to stand, Will reached his hand out and set his palm on his father's knee. "I'll be okay."

"I don't want you in pain Will," said Bill, taking his son's hand.

"I'll be okay," Will told him again. He curled his arm around his little brother once more.

Aidan smiled up at is brother and nuzzled his head into his neck. "Daddy, can I have naptime here with Will?"

"Sounds perfect," said Will, rubbing his cheek into his brother's head.

The two brothers shut their eyes. Not what Bill was planning to do with Will but if his recovering son was willingly going to nap then it was just as well as giving him medicine to ease the pain.

"Of course you can," he replied quietly and wrapped Aidan with a blanket that was at the foot of the bed.

He resumed his place in his chair and watched the two of them.

Will opened an eye. "You don't have to watch us sleep."

"I'm supposed to. I'm your father," replied Bill.

"Well, go away. We're fine," said Will, shutting his eyes.

What Will didn't know was that his father saw him grit his teeth in pain and eventually bite his lip as he turned his face into his brother.

"Do you want something?" whispered Bill.

"I'm fine," said Will softly.

Bill raised an eyebrow and looked at the resting duo. He knew his son better than that. Even in the presence of his sleeping brother Will would never admit that he wanted something to dull the pain. Aidan was sleeping and he still would never openly admit it. Knowing better, he pushed himself from the armchair with a great sigh and watched Will watch him as he walked around the bed to the table where the medicines were resting. While he hummed a lovely tune, he mixed together powders and water, yet kept an eye on his sixteen year old son. The smirk on his face thankfully widened opposite side facing his sons.

"Here," he said presenting Will with a cup. "It's light and will dull everything, but probably make you sleepy."

"Thanks," whispered Will. "But you're going to have to help me. Aidan's occupying the only arm I'm going to use for right now."

"Of course. Blame it on your baby brother," said Bill sarcastically.

"Are you and mum expecting another?" wondered Will after he swallowed the foul liquid.

Bill's eyes widened as he looked at his son. "What makes you say that?"

"Mum looks a little bigger than I remember," noted Will.

"Want to hear a secret?" wondered Bill.

Will subtly nodded his head.

Bill looked at him with a narrow eye then knelt beside to his son's level. "You and Lily and Andrew and Aidan, but especially you, made your mother fat. She's never going to lose the belly fat you four put on her. She's always going to be a little fat. And personally, I like it."

"I wish Elizabeth would gain a little weight," said Will. He looked at his father. "She needs a little added onto her chest."

"William," Bill said with a false shock. He chuckled and shook his head at his son.

"What? I'm your son remember?" reminded Will.

"I know, I know," said Bill. "So have you two…?"

"Father, you know the answer to that question," said Will.

"I know and I'm glad you waited until she was sixteen," said Bill.

"I did. It was the night of her sixteenth birthday for the record," Will said.

"I know," Bill told him with a heavy sigh. "Don't tell your uncle."

"Oh, he knows already. Apparently she went to him for confirmation and advice." Will told him.

Bill looked at Will oddly. "Advice for what?"

"What to do and if she was ready," replied Will. "Alex told me it was okay before her birthday but I wanted to wait until her birthday. And you know that wasn't her birthday gift. I got her the sapphire ring."

"I know," said Bill. He flipped a few curls from Will's face and pressed his lips across Will's bandaged forehead. "Now, you get some sleep. I'll return when Aidan informs me that you are awake."

Will smiled. He gave a few light nods of his head before turning his cheek once again into Aidan's forehead.

Knowing they would be all right, Bill began his way quietly from the room. He heard a sigh be released then someone mutter a soft "ow". A smile widened across his face as he shut the bedroom door.

In the mood for a good, hot cup of tea, he wandered down the bedroom hall and then continued until he came to the staircase. Andrew and Lily sat atop the stairs, one on each side, looking down them. They had thoughts on their minds about something.

"What are you two thinking about?" wondered Bill.

"Will," replied Andrew.

"Aren't we all?" asked Bill with a nod of his head.

"Father, why did Will get so bad and mean? He was perfectly fine one day and then the next he decided to be bad and mean," said Lily. She sighed heavily. "I just want my big brother back."

"Me too. He's only nice to Aidan," said Andrew. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall behind him. "It's not fair."

"I don't think he likes us anymore," noted Lily then changed her mind suddenly. "He hates us."

"I hate him too," announced Andrew, his little face pursing and creasing.

Bill looked between them then knelt more toward their level. He reached out and set a palm on each of their faces. Applying forces to the cheek opposite him caused them to turn their heads and look at him. "He doesn't hate either of you."

"But," began Andrew.

"No, Andrew, he doesn't hate you," said Bill, more firmly. "Aidan, I do realize, is the only one who Will doesn't change for. I don't understand the reasons any more than you do. I'm trying to get through your big brother's tough walls but he's as stubborn as his mother and uncle together. I know he doesn't hate either of you. He's just forgotten who he is I believe."

"Can you bring my big brother back daddy?" asked Andrew.

"I'm trying," said Bill.

"Good luck. You're going to need it," Lily told him with firm nods of her curly head.

"I'll need it," admitted Bill as he stood and made his way down the two flights of stairs.

As he walked the final few steps, his mouth opened into a yawn he was unable to hold back. He hadn't slept in days and here he was running around the manor acquiring more tea to keep him awake. After tea, he knew he would return to Will's side and watch him sleep until he too fell asleep and was woken by Aidan again.

Paws clicking on the floor turned his attention below him and thankfully, for he would have missed the last step had he not drew his attention down. Four dogs in the house, Polaris, Alexander's Newfoundland, George, Dirk's Great Dane, Orion, Will's Golden Retriever, and Hercules, Richard's Newfoundland and Richard himself once swore he would not allow any of his children to have a pet.

"Hello all four of you furry menaces," he greeted.

Four pink tongues panted at him and one golden paw pawed at his leg.

"Go on Orion, go get Will," said Bill.

At the name Will, Orion tilted his head to the side and shut his muzzle. He seemed to think a moment then trotted up each step. George followed him. The two Newfoundlands watched the two then turned away and rubbed against Bill's leg. Both heads turned and whined at him. They gave him their great big, chocolate brown eyes that pleaded for attention.

"You two are pathetic," noted Bill as he rubbed their furry rumps. "I can resist my son's eyes but not yours."

Whistling in the distance became louder as Alexander walked through the foyer through the hall which eventually led to the kitchens. In one hand was a teacup and the other held a paper of some sort he had his attention on.

"What kind of tea is that?" wondered Bill.

Alexander looked up with a curious expression. He was curious to understand if that was indeed his brother's voice he heard or not, for he had not seen Bill out of Will's room for two weeks. Seeing that it was his older brother, he raised an eyebrow and approached.

"Either my little nephew is dead or you hired the king's medical staff to watch him while you took your leave," he joked.

"Or Aidan is napping with him and he'll inform us if Will's condition worsens," answered Bill.

"That too," nodded Alexander. He raised his tea glass. "It's vanilla chi with a hint of mint. I hope you don't mind I didn't get it direct from Twining's."

"I just want tea," said Bill.

"You look like you could use an Alexander tea," said Alexander. He turned on his heels and motioned for his brother to come. "Oh, and you will be pleased to hear that Will's arm and leg are set properly. I just went over the human anatomy of a sixteen year old male and his pieced limbs are healing like normal limbs. The impact cleanly broke and I'm glad I don't have to cut Will's body open again. Chances of infection always increase the more one fiddles with bones."

"That's good. That's very good," sighed Bill. He shut his eyes as a piece of his son's pain burdening him was lifted off his shoulders.

"When was the last time you slept?" wondered Alexander. "Your face is beginning to look like my dog's."

Bill looked down at Polaris who was following them. He passed by a polished glass in the hall. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and he looked like he was three times his age with the amount of bags piling beneath them. His skin drooped low on his face and usual bright eyes were partly open. The natural active, healthy manner he kept himself was slumped and decayed.

Lowering his head, the Newfoundland's droopy brown eyes matched his. The muzzle and hanging jowls looked about right to his skin.

"Shut up Alex. I do look like Polaris," he admitted and continued walking.

Alexander raised his eyebrows as he sipped his tea. "Mm, except my poochie is more handsome than you."

"Alex, he's a dog. You think your dog is more beautiful than Colleen," said Bill.

"She's my wife, I see her all the time. I hardly see my Polaris," said Alexander.

While Alexander, baby talked and ogled over the four legged furry creature in the middle of the hall, Bill yawned and continued past the ballroom and dinning room and down another hall and down the stone stairs into the kitchen. He weaved his way around the cooks and servants who were preparing dinner to the tea cabinet. Even though the former china cabinet was filled with boxes of teas, he found none of them to his delight. Earl Grey was too English, the chi teas were too thick, he didn't feel like drinking flowers from the Chinese teas, and the fruit teas had too exciting of a flavor for his tired mouth.

Hands on his shoulders directed him to the table in the kitchen.

"I told you, I would prepare your tea for the night," Alexander's voice announced.

"What are you making me?" asked Bill, hearing glass clanging together.

"Rumbullion," replied Alexander proudly. "My tea."

"Alex, that's not tea; it is an alcoholic beverage," said Bill, turning his head to his busy brother.

"I believe the ingredients are rum, wine, lime juice, sugar, spices, _and_ tea," reminded Alexander. "Rumbullion has tea in it and I call it my tea. It is the tea I drink on the _Horse_."

"Yeah, I know what you drink on your ship. Christian, your so called loyal first mate, tells me what you drink and it's a miracle you haven't died from drinking alcohol yet," noted Bill.

Alexander shrugged his shoulders. He turned his head to his brother with the usual smirk across his lips. "I believe that comment should be reserved for only your son."

"And what of your father?" wondered Bill.

"Touché," noted Alexander as he turned his head. It was apparent in the sudden anger in his voice that that comment was all the truth. "He has a drink but he's not an alcoholic anymore."

"That's not what I hear," said Bill, digging his fingernails into the wood and producing scratches into Celtic knot work. "I hear he's had a drink every night since I brought Will back."

"William," said Alexander, turning his entire body to look at his brother. He gently threw his arms from his person. "Even my sister, who hardly has a drink, has had a few too many glasses in the past two weeks. We have all been off since you brought him back. I've been to busy with my studies and alchemy set to drink. The last thing I want is to mistakenly poison Will rather than give him the medicine he needs. I can't drink if I am to be Will's physician."

"Still," said Bill. "I know how high your alcohol tolerance is."

"But it's not as high as Will's and my father's," Alexander said as he handed his brother a teacup. "Here, I lowered the amount of wine and increased the rum and tea."

Bill looked at his brother with pursed lips as he took the cup into hand. He observed the swirling liquid as if searching for some sort of powder on the surface floating in a circle. Too many a time had he fallen for his brother's medicines that suddenly caused him to feel sleepy after consumption.

"I didn't add anything," said Alexander, knowing exactly why his brother was inspecting the tea.

"You never know with you," noted Bill.

"And that is why I am who I am," announced Alexander proudly.

Back up the stone stairs, down the hall, down the longer hall, through the foyer, down another hall, and another and into his armchair, Bill Turner sat with his "tea". He rested his head against the soft cushion behind him and shut his eyes.

What was he going to do with Will? Two of his three siblings believe he hated them and the rest of the family believed him to be the most rebellious sixteen year old that walked any English street. The rebel, that wasn't his son. His son was smart, a year ahead of his fellow classmates and due to graduate at least a year and a half early. His son was quick minded and bubbling with ideas that he constantly thought about. He was bound to take command of the Seastone Trading Company and the Company was just below the East India Company. He was a mathematical philosopher. Give him an equation with a dozen digits, half a dozen different steps, and ten minutes and ten minutes later, the answer would be circled. At age seven, he was calculating the costs of an entire year's worth of spending for both the East India and Seastone Trading Company.

A year ago, everything went wrong. What exactly happened? Sixteen. Will's sixteenth birthday. He knew the exact date his Little One suddenly changed. What was it about becoming sixteen that caused Will to change who he was and into a rebel that was one step shy of being sentence to the Tower for a few weeks. The only thing saving Will's life was the now King George. The former prince and the grandson of a noble lord were always close friends. Because of that friendship, Will found himself avoiding the punishments he deserved and often spent out those punishments having tea with the King. His son should have had several months in the Tower of London for what he did to the Navy ship. Trespassing on His Majesty's naval ships and pulling out the nails on a few specific working units should have been more punishment than an afternoon sitting in the Tower for questioning.

Grumbling, Bill knew the reason Will didn't spend forever in the Tower. Not only was it the family and personal friendship with King George himself, but also the connections he had in the Royal Navy: the Beckett brothers. Cutler and Harrison just had to be the ones who found all the boys. Harrison dealt with matters of recruiting men and placing them on ships and Cutler, well, he was only part in the Navy and dealt mostly with planning the trade routes. His other half of the time was spent working for Richard.

Moaning aloud, Bill realized another connection to the family preventing Will from receiving what he deserved. David Harlow, the keeper of the Tower of London. Thanks to Alexander and his week in the tower eight years ago, David Harlow became a good friend of the Seastones and was often over for tea on days he left the Tower to the second in keeper.

It soon became evident to the discouraged father that his son was getting out of things too easily and perhaps one of the reasons he became rebellious. Not only could he use his family name while in sticky situations, but he also had the closest connections to everything of high power. Apparently, there was much going for Will and his rebellious nature.

But the one question remained: What happened to change him?

"Darling, are you awake?"

"Yes, Lottie. I'm thinking about Will," said Bill. He opened his eyes to his Charlotte and smiled. Placing the teacup on the table beside him, he set it down and then pulled his wife into his lap and cradled her against his body.

Charlotte rubbed her cheek into her husband's neck then pressed her warm lips against the skin. Her finger's smoothened his wrinkled robe. "When was the last time you changed clothes or bathed?"

"I haven't bathed since before we left and I haven't changed clothes since I arrived," replied Bill, half expecting her to jump from his lap and demand he bathe.

"I really haven't been caring about my appearance much either," admitted Charlotte, her voice hinting to something else however.

"He'll be all right. He and Aidan are napping together right now and your twin says his bones are straight and healing as they should," said Bill.

"That's what he said before," whispered Charlotte.

"He's sure this time. He went through his anatomy drawings after feeling the angles of Will's broken bones. Everything feels right," said Bill.

"Good," replied Charlotte softly.

"Have Andrew and Lily brought up their opinion of Aidan and Will to you?" asked Bill after a quiet moment.

"Nothing more than the usual sibling rivalry," replied Charlotte. Suddenly intrigued, she tilted her head back to look at him. "Why do you ask?"

"Andrew and Lily think Will hate them and love Aidan. They think Aidan is Will's favorite and he could care less about them," replied Bill.

"He does seem that way," admitted Charlotte.

"I don't know what it is about Aidan either," said Bill, admitting to his question.

"But you know Will, he is a natural father and longs for the day he can have his own children," reminded Charlotte.

Bill sighed heavily then less than gently pushed Charlotte from him to stand by the unlit fireplace. He grasped the mantel a moment then turned to her. "I don't understand. That is just it. Will is caring and loving and full of heart and compassionate and little possessive I'll admit, but he's not rebellious or a troublemaker or one who fails or does stupid things. I don't know. I've tried everything to get through to him this past year. He won't let me in. He's his old self for two people, Aidan and Elizabeth. I've seen how he behaves around her. The usual moody, I-don't-care-about-anything, attitude he puts up for us isn't what he does for them. He's Aidan's biggest brother who will always play with him and he's Elizabeth's carefree, happy, smiling fiancé eager to marry her and start a family of his own. What did we do wrong that they didn't?"

"I want to know as well, but we need to break him before we can bring him back," said Charlotte.

"I don't think the options we discussed are going to break Will of his rebellious streak. If anything, and I know Will enough to know that it will make it worse," Bill told her. He shook his head. "You saw what happened to your brother after a month at that school. He was afraid to do anything without permission. He wouldn't speak, eat, sleep, read, write, walk, or play with his alchemy set without permission. Lottie, he wouldn't leave to relieve himself without permission. After one month, he was absolutely terrified and brain washed. You admitted to me you lost part of your twin brother and it took a while to get it back. Sending Will there, to a literal bared, prison—we'll lose him forever. Speaking without permission in class results in five lashes with the belt across his forearm and you saw the bruises a week later on your brother's arm. That's not going to help Will."

"It's what he needs," Richard's voice said as he entered the room and continued to speak as he sat in his armchair opposite Bill's in correlation to the fireplace. "He is far more rebellious than Alexander was and you know Will has a choice. I'm not putting in the paperwork until after Will has chosen."

"And you think the Royal Navy is better?" wondered Bill with disbelief. "Instead of the belt, they use the lash and minimum punishment is five. There are no second chances in the Navy. One mistake and Will's back will be torn bloody. I don't want permanent bruises on my son's arm or scars on his back. There must be another way."

"Billy, darling, you said it yourself. You've tried everything to get through to him, and you admitted you've gotten nowhere," reminded Charlotte.

"So you think doing this to Will is going to help him?" wondered Bill.

Lowering her head, Charlotte heaved a great sigh. She stepped forward and placed her palm on his cheek. "I don't what else to do. I want my Little One back."

"Taking away all his freedom and putting him in a prison on land or sea will surely take away all of Will that is inside of him," Bill told her.

"Will has made his own choices William," said Richard. Although he just sat himself down, he stood and stepped forward to his cabinet where he stored his finest alcohols. "As did you."

"Richard, you've had a glass, perhaps more than one glass, every night for the past two weeks. If you think you are going to consume any alcohol of any kind tonight, you will soon find yourself sitting in that same storage room you spent a month in getting it out of your head that you depended on alcohol. I mean that in a very caring way as well," Bill told him.

The hand that reached for the little knob on the glass door lowered and the body that stood in front of the cabinet resumed itself in the comfortable armchair. Richard gave a nod of his head and his lips pursed to the right and that same eyebrow raised. "I'd rather not do that again."

"And here you are telling me that Will and I made our own choices when you chose to do that to your own blood born son for all those years," said Bill, irritancy and anger in his voice. "I chose to come back for my family after you told me away and I chose for Alex to burn the hell out of my arm to stay with—"

His voice cut short as his head tilted to the side. A light flickered in his eyes as they stared off into the distance. Such an idea came over him that his mind forgot to blink or breathe. He stood there with inspiration on his face.

"If I can get the reason for Will's sudden rebelling out of him and him to end it all as quickly as he began it, would you forget sending him to that school or to the Navy?" he asked.

"That would depend on the reason he decided to cause me to lose the rest of my hair color and half my hair. If it is reason enough and understandable why he changed then we'll discuss other options," said Richard with a nod. He paused then turned his attention to Bill. "For the record, I don't want to send Will to that school either, nor do I want him in the Navy, but if I had to chose I would have him in the Navy. Those two brothers would place him with a captain who understands limitations of punishment, yet would know when Will has done something deserving of punishment."

"I myself know a few captains who went through the same rebellious streak Will is going through and their fathers sent them to the Academy. I know Harry and Beck. They would send Will with one of them," said Bill. He raised a firm forefinger at Richard. "But this doesn't mean I want my son in the Navy. It simply means he would be all right if he did join. I still intend to get it out of him."

"Just how do you intend to get through to Will?" wondered Richard.

"I'm his father. I know my son," said Bill. He smiled. "The same method my father used to get me out of my small rebellious streak which I did have when I was fourteen. If you don't believe me, ask Gabriel. Father about killed me, on more than one occasion."

"Including you and Alece?" wondered Richard, a smirk widening across his face.

Bill's eyes narrowed as he suddenly remembered his punishment for that one. "No, that was me and Alece being bored and curious and alone and having done everything but and us having known each other since her birth and when I can remember and us knowing we loved each other and us figuring why not." He turned his attention to Charlotte. "Did you know our son did the night of Elizabeth's birthday?"

"I know, Elizabeth came to me and asked me our first time," said Charlotte.

The expression his face changed from him knowing he was a fool to wide and pale yet blushing. "You didn't tell her did you?" he asked quickly.

"I told her a few things, nothing bad I promise. I told her a few female things she should know of and what to expect and how to make it more comfortable the next morning," replied Charlotte.

"I do believe everyone knows what Will and Elizabeth did that night," said Richard. "And I will admit I'm impressed. Not only did he wait until she was sixteen while going through his rebellious streak, but he was the oldest of all of us to make love to a woman. I was fifteen as were you and your brother Charlotte, Gabriel was just sixteen, and William, you were fourteen."

"Stupid, bored, curious teenagers," said Bill in his defense and raised his palms as if to make the attempt that his hands were clean in that matter or to indicate that it was a long time ago and his hands were now clean of it. "And now if you will excuse me, I need to sleep. My eyes are pleading for me to close them. Don't attempt to wake me for dinner either because I doubt I'll wake for the next two days."

With the unfinished so called "tea" left on the table, he walked from his room and up the main stairs to the third level of the manor where the bedrooms were. As usual, he found himself walking tiredly into his son's room.

"Orion, off the bed," he told a certain golden retriever who was lying at Will's feet.

The dog simply looked at him, flicked his tail, and remained where he was.

Shaking his head and not in the mood to argue with a dog, Bill observed the two boys. They were just as he left them: Aidan under his brother's arm snuggled against his body and Will asleep with his forehead pressed into his brother's face both under the blanket he laid across them. They were fine; he knew that.

As he walked across the hall to his bedroom, the thought of having a quick hot bath sounded very nicely until he thought about falling asleep in the water. From his own personal experience, falling asleep in a hot bath was wonderful, but waking to ice cold water and a shivering, blue body was not on his favored personal experiences. Instead, he walked to the two great windows and pulled the curtains shut tightly. He simply dropped the robe and slipped his feet from the slippers as he walked across the near dark room to the bed. He sunk into the mattress and curled the blanket around his body.

With a great yawn, he shut his eyes as he surrendered himself to sleep. Yet, a few questions were on his mind. How was he supposed to tell his son he had two choices to make? Better yet, how was he going to tell his son of the scars on his body? And what if that didn't work? Which of the two choices would Will make?

"Go away," Bill muttered to his thoughts.

He pulled the blanket over his head and everything suddenly calmed as his mind unconditionally surrendered to slumber.

* * *

**A Note from TurtleHeart:**

**Okay, i know that wasn't a week like i promised and i sincerly apologize, but, alas, who can predict when things come up and make life busy. Anyway, ideas are always appreciated on what i've got up.**


	3. More Than You Know

Will lie on his back in bed as he had for two days now. Bored was such a fine word to describe him. No one but Aidan of course came to give him company. Whenever anyone entered the room, it was usually to give him food or collect the dishes from his meals. Aidan sat with him as much as he was allowed, which was all the time considering it was summer and nothing was happening in London but a few parties here and there.

He tapped his fingers on his blanket and watched himself wiggle his toes. Only to himself did he admit that his body hurt and was terribly sore, but he was more bored than sore and wanted to get himself out of his bed and at least sit in a chair by the window or something.

Curious to know just what exactly he could move, his eyes glanced around the empty room to make absolute sure no one was in there to yell at him for doing something stupid. No one there of course since Aidan was in the middle of a midmorning nap.

Lying flat on his bed, he attempted to move his leg. Nothing. Looking at his arm he only saw his fingers move. Sighing in disgust, he pressed his left arm into his bed and pushed on his arm while pushing his left leg into the blankets. With small scoots, he managed to prop himself a pillow distance into a sitting position.

"I can to move," he told himself proudly. "And now what am I going to do beside stare into nothing?"

As if the heavens were blessing him with entertainment, he heard his sitting room door creak open. That was most likely Aidan returning from his naptime.

Once the figure stood in the doorway, Will slumped into his pillow and turned his head away. That was definitely not his baby brother. No, that was his father looking at him with a raised eyebrow and disappointment on his face.

"Why are you sitting up? I thought we told you no sitting up for a few more days," said Bill.

"I was just wondering how much I could move," replied Will honestly.

"And how much does it hurt?" wondered Bill.

"I'm just sore," Will told him. "Honestly. It doesn't hurt that much anymore."

"Uh huh. I see it in your eyes," said Bill.

"I'm just sore," Will told him again.

"Well, anyway William, I brought you some food," said Bill as he stepped forward.

"I've already been given my ration of breakfast," said Will.

"I know, but this your lunch and dinner and an afternoon snack as well," added Bill.

"Oh, I see," Will said as he turned his head to his father. "So now to lessen the amount of time you need to be with me my meals are now being given to me at once?"

"No, I just want to know if we can talk," Bill told him.

"Whatever," Will shrugged, turning his head away from his father and enjoying the view outside his window.

Expecting more than just that, Bill raised an eyebrow. He placed the food on the bedside table. Humming to himself, he deliberately took his sweet time pouring two glasses of juice and pulling the armchair beside Will's bed. What should have taken a moment or two was over five minutes of dillydallying.

"You know," he began, reaching forward to tuck a loose curl behind Will's ear. "You and I are more alike than you know."

"I doubt that," Will told him, irritated as he moved his head away from his father's hand.

"You once asked me about the scar above my left eye," Bill continued.

"What about it?" wondered Will.

"You weren't the only one who fell when you were eight, nor were you the only one who knows what it is like to have amnesia," said Bill. He leaned his head more in front of Will and soon became aware Will's eyes were at the far left side of his eye sockets to avoid turning his head. "There is one difference: you remember your life before you were eight and I don't."

"Okay," said Will turning his head to look at his father. "If you are just going to sit in here and lecture me about right from wrong and that the past influences our future just get out. I'm not in the mood for a lecture."

"I'm simply answering a question you once had for me, but," said Bill, slowly standing from his chair. "I can see you aren't in the mood to listen to the answers to a few of your questions."

Will gave a nod of his head as he turned away. He wasn't in the mood for another lecture. No, not him. Whenever his father wanted to talk to him it always became a lecture of some sort—but then they always talked afterward. He did want to talk to his father and if his father was going to do all the talking then perhaps he would get an apology from his father in there somewhere.

"Wait," he called, yet not turning his head.

"Yes, Will?"

Will turned to the doorway where his father stood. "When you say the phrase 'as long as I can remember', do you mean when you were eight or literally as long as you can remember?"

"What if I told you as long as I can remember means when I was eight?" asked Bill.

"I'm listening," Will said.

A grin widened on Bill's face and he fought not to allow the satisfaction show. He returned to Will's side and pointed above his left eye. Above the brow and in the center of his forehead was a little red line that extended from his hairline to the center of his forehead.

"Gabe and I were below deck hiding among the cargo. Apparently, according to a very reliable source being my brother, I told him I couldn't just sit there and wait for them to kill us. For the record, we were being attacked and we were in the Caribbean. I told him I wasn't going to wait down there for the enemy to kill us. Trying to be the hero, I rushed on deck. No one can be quite sure because no one knows surely, but we can assume someone brought me down or something. Whatever it was, I was knocked on the head. I woke on my father's Caribbean island without a single idea who I was or who my brother and father were. Everything I knew from before that day including my mother's face and voice and grandparents and memories and teachings was all gone. I had to relearn how to read and write and take care of myself."

"You aren't just saying this are you?" Will asked, skeptical.

"I wish I was," admitted Bill softly.

"So you really did lose your memory when you were eight?" Will asked one more time. Bill nodded. "Is that why you suddenly became very overprotective of me after I fell out of the tree house and lost my memory?"

"That would be why. And when you woke and didn't know who you were, I considered killing myself and ending it before I had to relive it."

Will lowered his head and fiddled with the blanket. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's in the past and you remember," said Bill.

"Not the days before then," reminded Will. "But it is better than eight years of my life I suppose. How old were you when your mother died?"

"I was five. Gabe barely remembers her, but he remembers her and that's all that matters to me is that he remembers her," said Bill.

"Are you jealous?" wondered Will.

Bill simply gave him a look with a raised eyebrow. Yep, that meant he was jealous yet. Choosing not to respond to that, he rolled the right sleeve of his robe to his elbow and presented Will with a scar on his entire forearm.

"Your grandfather gave me that," he told him.

"As in my grandfather Richard Seastone?" wondered Will.

"Mm hm," nodded Bill.

Gentle fingertips traced the pinkish tan mark on his father's bronze skin. Will looked at his father with eyes begging for an explanation.

"It was after Gabe and I were rescued but before we were adopted. I believe it was the summer after. Alex and Lottie were thirteen as well as Gabriel and I was fifteen. We were a perfect example of siblings. Your uncles had taken to spending time with each other as I had taken to spending time with your mother. Nothing happened between us yet Will; we spent that spring and summer bringing her garden to life and enjoying the natural company. Well, Richard was beginning to take quite a liking to me and spending quite a lot of time with me. Alexander, of course, did not approve of this. He was incredible jealous that I was taking time away from her and his father. Because your mother spent most of her time with me, she too was spending more time with her father. Things were pretty bad that summer. Alex wouldn't talk to Lottie or I, and he tried getting his father's attention. Well, he got his father's attention all right, but he wasn't looking to get attention.

"You know your grandfather was a heavy drinker in your childhood. I know you know. Thirteen year old Alexander Seastone also knew that and he also knew that his father drank alcohol when he was upset. It just so happens and it isn't shocking to hear that thirteen year old Alexander knew where his father kept the key to the alcohol cabinet and I'm not going to tell you because—"

"It's above the cabinet, far right corner in the little nook. It's small and silver with a little clover on the edge," replied Will with a sly smile.

Bill stared at him dumbfounded. Being a father, he should have looked upon Will with anger, but being his father he looked on Will with wonder. He opened his mouth with a smack of his lips. "How the hell did you know that?"

"I waited downstairs for a few nights to discover where he kept it and I can tell you what I do and do not like out of that cabinet and I can tell you I've snuck a glass or two in the middle of the night this past year," Will told him casually.

"I should scream at you right now," began Bill calmly. "But I'm going to tell you what I have to tell you and then I'm going to let you explain to me this past year."

"Fair enough," agreed Will as he pounded the pillow behind him to center the feathers.

The father fluffed his son's pillow before continuing. "Anyway, Alexander was upset. He didn't know any better because it was all he saw his father do that past year in his life. He thought it was proper to drink when one was upset so he got the key down and pulled out all the bottles. Mind you, this was in the middle of the night and he was not alone. My brother, yes my sweet, innocent baby brother who was barely thirteen years old at the time was his accomplice. Let's just say the two drank all night.

"In the morning I found them unconscious with glasses and bottles all around the room not to mention both of them were collapsed in the own pools of vomit. Naturally, I panicked because I knew what my brothers had done. When Richard came rushing into the room, he didn't know what to do at first. He was purely afraid to see his own son like that and feared he would lose Alex. The two thirteen year olds had a rough next few days sobering and healing up. Richard didn't do anything but sit quietly beside his son and comfort him. Even though he was furious at his son for doing that, he didn't know who gave him the key or what possessed him to drink. Your grandfather has always been a man who most of the time gets the story before blowing up. I say most of the time because there was a time when he didn't, but I'll get there. He was just scared to death he would lose Alex.

"After a few days, I got it out of them. I knew what Richard did to Alex when he was drunk and upset at him. I knew he beat Alex and I knew, the moment Alex and Gabe explained to him what they had done, Richard would get himself unintentionally drunk and go after Alex and possibly Gabriel. I wasn't going to let that happen. I took it for them. What happened was something I never expected. I told Richard I brought them in there in the middle of that night and gave them a drink because they had asked me what was in there. I told him I gave them a glass of alcohol each and when they were finished to clean the glasses and set the key back up. It was to be our little secret. I told him that I was too tired to babysit them and that I trusted them. Richard looked at me. I thought I was safe because he was drinking tea that night and because I came out and told him. He set his tea down and told me to come over. When I came over to him, he grabbed my arm with both fists and he twisted. After a moment, there was a snap."

"He broke your arm?" Will asked.

Bill nodded. "Yes."

"Does anyone know about this? Did you tell anyone? Papa, there could be something seriously wrong with your arm? He shouldn't have adopted you. Does mum know?" Will cried with every question in one breath.

Hushing him, Bill set his palms on his son's shoulders. Most of him was glad Will was reacting this way. There was love between he and his son and possibility he could bring back his Will. "Everyone knows Little One. Nothing is wrong with my arm. It was corrected years and years ago. The correction is the reason there is the scar."

"But Papa, he broke your arm," Will softly told him, his forehead creased and eyebrows high. There was even a bit of glistening to his brown orbs.

"I know," Bill told him. "Believe me I know. I don't know what kept me from screaming when I heard that snap. Hearing my arm break was worse than feeling it. Nothing hurt worse than what he said after. He told me that if I ever did this to his Alexander again much more than my arm would break and he told me if told anyone who broke my arm, he would give my brother enough alcohol to kill him. He would give Gabriel alcohol poisoning. My arm didn't hurt badly that night when I went to sleep, but when I woke the first thing I did was nearly vomit. The pain was incredible. I told the other three that I had too many books in my arms in the library and I miss stepped going down the stairs and my arm slammed into the rail. I told them it was nothing to worry about. They bought it for a few days. Gabe bumped my arm with the same pressure if I was to set my finger on your hand. He barely touched my arm and I screamed. My arm was swollen and black and blue and red and I knew it may have been infected; it was in two pieces after all. Putting it simply, the next time I woke, my arm was properly bandaged and splinted and resting on a pillow. Gabriel had gotten young Ewan to patch up my arm. When I think of my arm, I always thank Gabe for being the perfect little worrier of a baby brother. Had he not gotten Ewan the moment he knew something was much more wrong with my arm I wouldn't have an arm."

Huge, concerned eyes belonging to a teenager, whose breathing altogether ended, looked at his arm. "So, if Uncle Gabriel would have touched your arm the following day you wouldn't have a right arm?"

"I'd be missing my arm from below the elbow," corrected Bill.

Will swallowed and Bill noticed his son looking over his own bandaged arm.

Bill reached out and grabbed his son's right hand. "You were fine. Okay? I've learned a thing or two medically since my arm was broken. I had your arm and leg back in one piece in a day. There was no risk of losing them."

"All right," said Will, not convinced.

Abruptly, Bill began chuckling. He kept it as quietly to himself as he could until it broke free from his lips. Soon, he sat on the bed holding his sides laughing hysterically in front of his son.

Will looked on with confusion and thought. Was it something he did that brought such joy to his father? It couldn't have been. He was simply sitting there with worry on his face.

"I'll never forget that time," Bill said to himself. He wiped is sapphires with his tunic sleeve then pulled the left side of his tunic toward his chest until the left half of his belly was exposed and revealed a light pink scar extending from his belly button to above his hip bone. "Your mother."

"What about mum?" asked Will.

"Your mother did this to me," said Bill.

"I told you she's deadly when she's upset. No one believes me," Will said.

"No, no, no. This happened when she and I were fooling around after we were married," Bill told him. "Your mother and I fooling around can be taken in one of two ways. The first way two newlyweds fool around is in bed. The second way two newlyweds fool around is with swords in her father's great yard. Yes Will, your mother can handle a weapon. We were bored and it was a fall day so naturally I grabbed my sword and she hers. It is always expected to keep up with swordplay to be prepared for any occasion of the sort. Your mother needed to keep up should she have to defend herself and I had to keep up to keep my behind alive while I was sailing the sea for months on end you mother said. Anyway, I was mocking her about being a girl with a sword and we were fooling around as I said. Fooling around soon became swordplaying and swordplaying soon became a competition. You know your mother loves a good competition as do I and you know we both hate to lose. Unfortunately, I lost and I only lost because I felt the edge of a sword blade slice my belly. You can't imagine how loud your mother can shriek when she's afraid. Damn near half the house came rushing to my aide. It wasn't even that deep of a cut. I say cut because that's what it was. I was bleeding yes, but only bad enough that I had to keep my hand over the wound to stop the blood flow. Despite that I could walk, your mother nearly sat on me to keep me down.

"And because my brother was my brother and everyone was frightened because of your mother, Gabriel carried me back to my room, Richard sent for Ewan, Alex tended to me, and Charlotte was nervous wreck in the parlor. Two dozen stitches and a light layer of bandages later, I was perfectly fine. No one would let me out of bed for three days and I wasn't allowed to sit up either. Your mother was so deathly terrified to hurt me again, it was a week before she and I were sleeping in the same bed and she had a fear of pointy objects for a while. Will, your mother used a spoon where knives and forks were needed. She tried cutting her meat with a spoon."

Picturing that thought in his mind, Will laughed a moment. His bright eyes squeezed shut and suddenly filled with a few tears that he was unable to remove before they slipped from his eyes. Nearly half his ribs were broken and he couldn't inhale breath too deeply without his chest sending agonizing, sharp pains through him. Laughing and he felt as though he was being stabbed with the bones.

"Ow," he whimpered softly.

Sighing, Bill leaned down and wiped the tears away with his thumbs. "You don't know the meaning of 'ow' Little One. Broken ribs is one thing, but try your hand at a bullet breaking these ribs and having that piece of metal removed from your body while you're still awake."

"Father, are all of these little stories you are telling me true or are you trying to make me feel bad for you?" asked Will.

Bill pulled the robe aside and untied the lacing in the front of his tunic. He specifically pointed at a scar on his left breast. The scar was half the size of the one on his belly, but unlike the scar on his belly, this one was jagged and the center was much wider than the outsides.

"So all of these stories happened then?" assumed Will.

"Why do you think I'm showing you the scars?" Bill asked.

"What happened?" wondered Will.

"Remember when you were ten years old and I caught you playing with my pistol after I told you not to?" asked Bill.

"How could I forget," said Will. "My butt was red for two days and I couldn't sit for a week. I never stopped crying because you yelled at me. Everyone else yelled at me too, but it hurt the worst when you did."

"I was eleven when I found my father's pistol on deck. He was a man who did not usually leave loaded weapons lying around with an eleven and nine year old near him at all times. Unfortunately, that was the only time he did leave his loaded pistol around. Apparently, he was having trouble getting the shot out of it so he was playing around attempting to get it working again. Rough waters caused him to leave his place on deck to go to the wheel. I was curious of course. Why did my father always tell Gabe and I to stay away from them? I wanted to know. Since he wasn't watching, I decided I could pick it up and play around with it."

"Father, I don't mean to interrupt but, you're not telling the truth," said Will. "If you shot yourself in the chest with the pistol in your own hands then you would have killed yourself."

Bill raised a finger. "I know and I didn't shoot myself. Gabriel did."

"Huhwha? Uncle Gabriel shot you?" cried Will.

"Just listen to the story," Bill told him. "Anyway, I was playing with it and it wasn't working of course. There was a jam so I banged it against a few hard things, which probably loosened it. Because I was playing with my father's pistol, nine year old Gabriel decided it was all right for him to play with a pistol too. He stole a pistol from someone else on deck and I was the idiot who showed him how to load a pistol. Don't look at me like that, you weren't exactly the smartest thing when you were eleven years old."

"Considering I skipped the entire first year of schooling," muttered Will.

"I heard that," stated Bill with a smile. "And you were book smart, not logic smart."

"I was too logic smart," snapped Will.

Bill sat beside Will simply to clamp his palm against Will's mouth. "If you bite me I'll give you a reason to cry out in pain. So, Gabriel and I both had loaded pistols in our hands. We were playing pirate like we always did and this time there was more of an excuse to play pirate because we had pistols. For the record, we were at the very bow of the ship and the high seas were living up to their high name that day. Gabriel liked to be the hero of the story and I always preferred to be the wicked bad guy because the bad guys always got the best clothes and weapons because they stole them. Anyway, that day we happened to be playing Blackbeard and Maynard. Gabe was Lieutenant Maynard and I, of course, was Blackbeard. We were playing out the final battle between the two—"

Will pulled his father's palm from his mouth. "Let me get this straight. Your father had a loaded pistol. You showed Gabriel how to load a pistol. You liked to be the bad guy. Gabe liked to be the hero. Gabe played Maynard and you played Blackbeard. In the final confrontation, Maynard shot Blackbeard so Gabriel pretended to shoot you and did in fact shoot you because they pistols were loaded."

"Pretty much," said Bill.

"Ow," muttered Will.

"It hurt. I'm not denying that. You'll find that the most painful moments of your life are moments you'll not easily forget. As you could probably suppose, I was laying on deck screaming and crying and bleeding and Gabriel was doing everything but bleeding. I was also choking up blood. Obviously, my father rushed down to us and when he saw me it was one of those ask later moments. Father kept me as calm as possible while medical supplies were fetched. I was awake as my father pulled the bullet from between my ribs. Since I was young and Gabe was over half a ship away from me, the bullet was lodged between these two ribs. While in the process of removal, one of my ribs had to be raised and the bullet removed at the same time. Father did the removing and two of his friends did the holding me down and holding the rib. I think I blacked out while he was pulling the bullet from me because I the next thing I remembered I was resting on a cot and father sitting beside me. Father often admitted to me that was the second most frightening time in his life. I was a hurting little boy for about a week. Gabe and I still find it shocking that Father never scolded us once. On the matter, he simply told us that was the reason we were to leave his pistols alone. Father knew it was his fault for leaving it on deck while well aware the two us were playing. For the record, I couldn't do much for a while because of the injury and both of those ribs were broken to remove the bullet from my body.

"Secondly, please don't tell Dirk about this. I never told your mother Gabriel shot me when I was eleven. He hates being reminded that he nearly killed me. Had my father not known quite a bit about medicine, I would have died before he could get me to a surgeon. Gabe has nightmares on occasion. Every time he sees the scar, he turns away and usually leaves to be on his own where he can silently cry. He hates it. He'll never forgive himself. I continue to tell him that it was me who showed him how to load a pistol and me who gave him reason to find one, but he simply won't take it. You know your uncle."

"He holds grudges against himself and he's sensitive," agreed Will.

"Gabriel does have a few war wounds from me however. Most of them are little scars from scratches from our wrestling matches. I never harmed Gabe like he accidentally did to me," said Bill.

"Can you pour me a glass of water?" requested Will.

"I must admit I am quite parched too," said Bill.

While pouring two glasses of water, a golden, red head poked in the doorway followed by trotting paws and a wagging tail. Orion jumped on the bed beside Will and began licking his face and neck while his tail flipped back and forth.

Will pet his pooch.

"You know I don't like it when you allow him on the bed," noted Bill.

"You should have told me that when he was a puppy because he's got the habit that he's welcomed on my bed anytime," said Will. He defended his dog when Bill's eyes narrowed into a small glare. "He knows the foot of the bed belongs to him. I trained him to sleep there. Besides, Alex doesn't care."

"Alex would let his miniature black bear sleep on his bed if Colleen wouldn't have kicked the habit when Polaris was just a puppy," said Bill.

"George sleeps on Dirk's bed," said Will.

"Is Dirk my son? No. If Gabriel allows Dirk to let his dog stay on the bed then that is between those two. I for one do not like Orion sleeping on your bed," said Bill.

"I don't see why not. My bed is huge. I can lie across the width of it and still not have my head or feet hanging off the end," said Will.

Giving up arguing this pointless matter because Orion did settle himself at the foot of his son's bed, Bill sighed and shook his head. He wasn't going to argue with his son about something he agreed on. He didn't like Orion on the bed, but he didn't mind it.

"You know, Gabe and I had dogs when we were younger," he began.

"I know," replied Will. "Gabriel had a Great Dane and you had that huge Irish dog."

"I can't be too hard on you since I too let my dog sleep on my bed and he was bigger than Polaris and Hercules," said Bill.

"What happened to your dogs anyway? I knew you two had dogs, but what came of them?" wondered Will.

"They died of old age nearly a month apart. Gabe's moved on then mine did. Thankfully, we were in Scotland at the time. Gabriel and I buried our dogs and gave them a proper marker," Bill told him.

Will nodded and looked at the surface of his glass of water. Nothing appeared to float on top or swirl when he moved the water around. Just to be safe, he sipped a few drops and tasted the contents. Nope, it was normal, cool, tasteless water.

"I'm not your uncle," muttered Bill.

"You are more than you think," Will told him. He was quiet for a moment then slowly spoke. "If you don't mind my asking since you are explaining a few of your precious scars to me, where did you get the scar on your neck?"

"Rope," replied Bill.

"How did you get rope around your neck?" wondered Will.

"I was fifteen," said Bill.

"Did they do it?" Will asked softly.

Bill gave a subtle nod. "Mm hm."

Will nodded and lowered his head. That was a topic taboo to ask. His mother told him never to ask about the time he was fifteen years old. He asked once and the cold, frightened look that passed into his father's eyes explained enough to him. If his father wanted to talk about it then he would talk about it. Fifteen was strictly a listen don't ask policy.

"You ever hear how I got the name Bootstrap Bill?" Bill abruptly asked, breaking the silence and changing the mood.

Will smiled, his perfect white teeth gleaming and eyes sparkling. "Of course. Everyone knows that story."

"From my point of view?" asked Bill.

"I don't remember your point of view," Will said, slyly.

"Well, I was thirteen years old and very stupid," began Bill, nodding his head. "I knew not to step in between coils of rope, but I did anyway. A sailor cannot do something more stupid than step between coiled ropes. Rope burns hurt worse than normal burns William. Make no mistake about that and please don't step between coils of rope, barefoot, wearing breeches. A great amount of sea wind suddenly picked up and the next thing I knew I was swinging by my right ankle. The rope didn't get caught in my boostraps because I didn't have any boots on but that's beside the point. While everyone thought it was so amusing that I was swinging from side to side with my tunic over my head and me flailing about yelling for someone to get down—picture that if you will son." He watched the smile on Will's face grow and his knuckles turn white from grasping the blankets in order not to laugh. "I was up there with a severe rope burn and a broken ankle. Father and Gabriel thought it was all amusing. Gabe collapsed on deck and nearly died because he was laughing and Father was leaning over the helm of the ship trying to hide his laughter. After I finally was cut down, that's when Father's amusement vanished. My ankle was swollen and black and blue and the rope was indented into my skin. They had to peel the rope from between the layers of skin."

He pulled his trouser cuff to his knee and removed the slipper. Sure enough, there was a light tan circle around his right ankle and the line extended, winding around his calf about halfway to his knee.

"Imagine someone peeling the rope from your skin and then having to pick pieces of the twine from you with a tweezers. My leg was kept up for a week and cool rags wrapped around it. Not so amusing when it is happening to you is it?"

"I wouldn't know. I've never set my foot between coiled rope," said Will with a smile.

"Smart ass," muttered Bill as he raised the cup to his face.

"Your son you mean," corrected Will.

Bill rolled his eyes and nodded. He covered his leg again and leaned back into the wall.

Simply having the impulse because it was an opportune moment, Will sighed coincidentally the same time with his father. Forgetting how painful that was, he instinctively clutched his father's hand and squeezed.

A smile creeped onto Bill's face as he felt his hand squish together between his son's fingers. Finally, the thick ice between them was broken. He was getting through to Will after all and he did notice his son was becoming more of the Will he knew long ago. The few scars that were hardly of relevance had their stories told, but now he had to explain the scars that would either bring Will back to who he was or simply leave him unchanged. He hadn't spoken of the time he was fifteen to anyone. There was no real need to explain it since everyone was there to see it. He didn't want his son to look at him different. Gabriel never looked at him the same once it all happened. Gabe always looked on him with concern and a watchful eye. He didn't need his own son having to feel as though he had to watch him because of an incident when he was around his son's age.

And he didn't exactly have to tell his son about the scars yet. Some scars the eye couldn't see, but they were there. Testing the waters, he decided to tell his son about a few near life taking experiences before explaining the experience that nearly took his life.

"You know about that time I was sent to India right?"

"Don't remind me. Grandfather reminds me every time I do something wrong," said Will.

"Do you know I nearly never came back?"

"What scar are you going to show me now?" wondered Will.

"These scars the eye cannot see, but only my body can feel," Bill began. "When we were in India wandering at our own free will, I was bit by something. I have a mark from the bite, I don't exactly call it a scar since that is not what it looks like."

"A scar, a mark, there is no real difference," said Will.

With a nod of truth, Bill rolled his left sleeve to his shoulder. Above his elbow on his arm was something that appeared to be a rash. The overall size of it was less than that of a piece of eight, but the faded red dots looked as though they were peeled open and the center of the wound was the exact opposite. Scar tissue and skin was slightly elevated above the rest of his arm. It felt hard to the touch.

"There are bite marks," noted Will, eyeing out two miniscule red dots on the scar.

Bill nodded. "That's how I know I was bitten. I wasn't the smartest I'll admit that. I was wandering the jungle with half my tunic shoved into the band of my trousers exposing my torso to the muck and bugs. We were wandering the jungle as I told you, with a few friends of mine. I felt it when I was bitten. The feeling was similar to that of a wasp." He paused to note Will rubbing his forearm where he was bitten by that wasp years ago. "Anyway, I thought nothing of it since the little bugger had gone already. It wasn't until that night when I began feeling off. I had no appetite and I was so very thirsty. I couldn't satisfy my thirst. Later in the night, I began hallucinating and burning with a fever. I don't remember much, but it was a few days and a few Indian physicians before I came around. My arm was without feeling for a while and I was still very thirsty. Nothing was clear. It was a few more days after, I woke that I had the mind to be myself again. My arm was heavy for days after I was up again. They think it was a snake or a spider by the tooth marks. I never care to know because I am never going back to India."

"I was bitten by that black spider," reminded Will.

"I know, don't remind," said Bill quickly, rubbing his arm. "Well another time I got pneumonia."

"So did Dirk and I and don't go telling me that it was worse than Dirk's. Okay? My cousin almost died from it," said Will.

"My father nearly poisoned me to end my pain and it was similar to Dirk's case of pneumonia Little One," said Bill. Will's chocolate orbs turned to him curiously. "I was in the Caribbean, Hot Cocoa to be exact. There was a storm brewing in, and I had a little passion for watching storms brew, which I don't know and I'll tell you why later. There is nothing more beautiful and frightening than watching huge black clouds with lightning and thunder rumbling in them. On the ocean, storms are incredible. All you can see is the sky and sea and you have to experience what a storm is like coming in. It feels as though you are Zeus himself commanding the storm. Oh, yes right—it began raining and it was a cold rain."

"A cold rain for the Caribbean," noted Will.

"Will, it was like the rain here," Bill told him. "It was very cold for the Caribbean. I was an idiot and sat through much of the storm watching it lightening into the sea and pour on my face. Father finally noticed me out there about an hour after the rain started. I was twelve I think. He got me back inside and warmed up, but it was already too late. I had a fever. By the morning, I was beginning to cough. Father knew what it was exactly. He sat by me for three weeks praying every night that I would wake to see the morning. Like Dirk, I lost nearly all my weight horribly quickly. I couldn't breathe, it hurt to breath, my body temperature was never content, I couldn't talk, I barely ate because it hurt to swallow, and I just wanted to sleep. Most of all, I didn't want to die, but I wanted all the pain to go away. It came to the point that my breathing was coughing and I was beginning to cough blood because my throat was dry. I know Dirk got there to. Dirk and I had our pneumonia to the exact cough; that's how baby brother knew what to do.

"When I began coughing the blood, father knew I wasn't going to last much longer. After I finally fell asleep, he went to the town side of the island and prayed. For an hour, all he did was pray. There was never a moment when he didn't speak to the Lord. He told me that if I wasn't turning for the light by morning, there would be poison slipped down my throat. He had the poison in his hands as he prayed. A little speck hemlock he had and he would have given to me. By morning, I wasn't improved and I wasn't awake yet, but I was choking. He brought me into his arms and put the bottle against my lips. My baby brother of only ten years was watching all of this. Father told him it was medicine that would make me feel better, but it wouldn't make him feel better. He got the glass bottle to my lips. Well, he wanted a miracle from the Lord and he got it. I woke with the bottle against my lips. He told me he saw life in my eyes again and they were brighter. Seeing my eyes looking back at him, he realized he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill his own son.

"Let us just say I began improving later that night. It was still weeks before you could say I was ripe off the old tree, but I was alive. When you and Dirk had pneumonia and we thought you two were going to die, we considered the speck of hemlock. Gabe couldn't do it. Father didn't have the strength to do it and he never understood why until that point. Pneumonia is an interesting disease, one moment you'll think your greatest treasure is going to die and in an hour, everything will turn for the better. We didn't know if you two would have gotten better if we'd've poisoned you. In my heart, I still had hope that you would turn around and you did. Gabe was close to doing it, but Dirk was fighting and he knew how hard he was fighting. He told me if Dirk gave up then he would too, but Dirk never gave up and neither did you."

Will softly smiled, but his eyes were low in thought. "I don't want to die," he whispered so quietly only consonants were heard.

Once having felt the same, Bill nodded his head and took a daring move by pressing his lips against Will's cheek. He felt Will lean his head into the gesture of love and kept his lips there for longer than he intended. Kissing his Little One's cheek was once a nightly chore. He never grew tired of having his father give him a kiss good night. While he was away at school, he lacked his father's wishes of good dreams so when he was home he embraced it more and more. Dirk once laughed at him because he was demanding a kiss goodnight when he was fifteen years old.

The waters had been tested and a daring move was pulled and Will did not pull away. There was hope that Will was now Will and Will would explain all that happened to him.

"Hold me," Will whispered softly, like a sole prayer spoken in the chapel. He turned his head to his father's wondrous face. "It's been so long since anyone has held me. I know mum and Lily held me and Aidan slept in my arms, but it's not the same. They held me because they were frightened. On the ship when you wrapped your arms around me that was simply to try to get through to me—"

"You aren't the only one who messed up Will," Bill said abruptly in the middle of his son's thoughts. "If I could rewrite my past I would. I would change how I was when I was fourteen. My father, the last year with my father, he spent nearly the entire year scolding me and yelling at me. You did not simply attract this sudden rebellious spirit in you. I had it when I was fourteen."

Will shook his head. "I don't think you messed up more than me," he softly and guiltily admitted.

"I did Little One. I messed up more than you," said Bill. "My rebelling against everything nearly cost me more than it was worth. My father was a man who did not agree with the Navy on some things, but other things he agreed with. I was nearly thrown in the Academy."

"I don't mean to keep interrupting but you chose to go into the Navy. If the Navy was a punishment that made you stop your rebellious streak then why did you willingly sign yourself to it?" wondered Will.

"Because I wanted to make my father proud," replied Bill.

"But your father was dead by then. You can't make the dead proud because the dead are not alive," noted Will.

"William, that's beside the point!" Bill cried exasperated. He sighed heavily. "I just lost my father after a year of, and I cannot believe I am telling this to you, gambling with my life and money, drinking as much alcohol as I could in town, pirating and stealing more than I should have, and sleeping around."

"You were fourteen?" asked Will.

Bill shrugged and smiled innocently. "Sounds a might bit familiar doesn't it Will?"

Will shook his head. He raised his forefinger. "One. I have one girl and I haven't in a very long time. I never pirate or—did you really do all of this?"

"Yeah," replied Bill with a firm nod of his head. "Alece Rosa. I'm sure you've heard of her. It all began with her. She was my first girlfriend. We had known each other since birth. She was eight days younger than me. Her family was a friend of ours. You see, her oldest brother sailed and worked with my father. Naturally, we were acquainted with the Rosa family whenever our travels led us to Spain. They lived on the southern coast. Because Alece and I had known each other forever, there wasn't anything that we did that was uncomfortable. We kissed for the first time when we were thirteen. Okay, Will our entire relationship, meaning significant other, lasted about two weeks. We were in Spain because it was her birthday and we were near there anyway. We were talking one night and she kissed me. I kissed her back. The next day was her birthday and she was fourteen and I was fourteen. Nothing happened that night because there was a celebration.

"Things were, let me just say, opportune to sneak around with each other. Her family and my father enjoyed going out at night. I was the oldest and left in charge of the children and they went to sleep between eight and nine at night. The adults returned after midnight. That left us at least three hours to fool around. We thought we knew what love was because we missed each other when I was away. She didn't feel the same about other boys and I didn't have the same thoughts about girl's either. She was the only girl I thought I loved. So naïve I was then.

"Over the next week, we did everything it took you and Elizabeth sixteen years to do. I mean everything when I say it too. We did everything but get into bed and we liked the rest of it. And yes, we kept the doors open so we could hear the children when they woke for water or from a bad dream or when the adults arrived home. No one knew what we were doing and we didn't know what we were doing either. We weren't ready. We were curious and bored with everything else. We didn't understand because neither of us spoke of this topic to our parents or father if you are me. They never really saw reason to explain it to us. We were barely fourteen, but we knew what happened at night. She lived at home and I lived at sea. It was not difficult to figure out.

"So, on about the seventh night, we got into bed and yeah. I had no idea what I was doing and she had no idea what she was doing. All we knew is that it hurt, but we thought that was normal because it's something you don't do every day. It wasn't just in bed either. We bored and curious like I told you before so we took it all over the room."

Turning bright cherry red, Bill pressed his palms against his face and rubbed up and down.

"I cannot believe I am telling you this considering I was barely fourteen and I pressed it so hard on you that if you did this before you were ready or sixteen I would kill you. There I was, barely fourteen and having done everything a male and female can do at night in a week.

"Needless to say they found out. It wasn't very difficult to find out. We were both walking awkward and we had that look on our faces. The adults spoke in private and agreed that punishments would be dealt with on the parent's account, but we would be separated. Fortunate for me, her older brother had earned enough money to purchase a house for his own family and saved enough to get by for quite a while until he found a job in town. I knew they found out because the next day at one o'clock in the afternoon, I was sailing away. Father didn't say a word to me that day. No one spoke to me. Just like me Will, when I don't say anything and I have that emotionless expression on my face, you know I know something."

"Mm hm, I know the look," muttered Will.

"You should, I've had it on my face every week for the past year," said Bill. "Anyway, Father woke me at sunrise the next morning. He said he had something to discuss with me. I knew I was in trouble then. He took me on deck where it was just the two of us and a chair sitting in the center. He told me to remove my clothes. When I asked why, he said he wanted to see the damage she had done to me. And because it was just the two of us, I decided it was best to just do it. So there I was, standing butt naked on deck during a sunrise. He made note of the marks she had done to me then sat me in the wooden chair where he had a little talk with me. During this little talk, the men began waking and coming on deck to enjoy the day and there I was, butt naked in a chair with my father scolding me.

"When he was through with his little lecture he stood up and, naturally, I did as well. Nope, he pushed me back in the chair and told me I was going to stay there until the sun was gone from the horizon. We were sailing due West as fast as the ship sailed, so the day was longer than it should have been. He told me that everyone got the chance to see the marks she put on me and to see how well I was developing if you know what I mean. I sat facing the helm and my father. Every man made some remark whenever he passed and Gabriel got a little talk as well. Needless to say, Father got him paranoid about women. That was why he was sixteen. It took all of us including Richard to tell him that it was all right to be with a girl.

"Throughout the day I was fed and I had to attend to my usual chores. I had to get my own food and put the dishes away. I had to do my usual chores of washing the dishes because it was my turn and I got the honor to swab the deck. When I was not attending chores or dining, I was sitting in the chair. Keep in mind I had no clothes on my body and I was completely exposed to the Spanish sun. A certain area that was not exposed to the sun ever, was sunburned. It was sunburned red. Both sides were."

"Ouch. Ow. Ow. Ow," muttered Will, squeezing his eyes shut. If he could have curled tighter against himself protecting his midsection from the sun he would have, but his face twisted into discomfort.

Bill nodded. "When I was allowed to get out of the sun, Father said I had learned my lesson and he hoped I would never disappoint him again. He told me he was ashamed to call me is son. That hurt a lot. It hurt more than my sunburn. Gabriel being my baby brother and still eleven years old, wanted an explanation to why I did it and provided me with coconut oil Father told him not to give me. My reply to him was that I felt like it. After that day, my relationship with my father went down. I didn't understand. He never talked to me about girls and here he was punishing me for something I did not know. I thought it wasn't fair and he had a cold shoulder for me. He kept his distance and our conversations became single words. I didn't care anymore and I went rebellious because I wanted him to notice me." He paused to look meaningfully at his son.

"I've always been your favorite. Why would I turn into a rebel to get your attention and favor?" asked Will.

"Just wondering," replied Bill.

Will looked at the sandwiches sitting on the table. He knew his father was hinting toward that he wanted to know what flipped the switch in his mind. No, no, no. He was not going to tell his father that. Why did his father deserve to know? He became a rebel for a reason and if he told them the reason then they would hold it against him forever and everything would suddenly go back to normal. Nothing was going to go back to normal after he told them. Honestly, he didn't mind being known as a rebel. No one at school messed with him and those certain few delighted inviting him to midnight parties by the rock. London also didn't know him as the "adorable, such a kind, handsome, young Lord." Nope. They avoided his name altogether and when he was spoke it was from being caught in the act again. He liked who he was. No one gave him responsibilities and he was the same for the only two people that mattered in his life: Aidan and Elizabeth. Sure, he wanted his father, but he messed up their relation long ago. There was no getting it back.

Right?

"Are you hungry?"

"Hm?" wondered Will blinking his eyes and focusing on his father.

"Are you hungry? You're looking at the food," noted Bill.

"It has been a while since I've eaten," admitted Will, realizing he was a bit hungry.

As the food was being cut, Orion suddenly woke from his nap and perked his head up. His nose rapidly sniffed before he got on all fours to scoot closer, situating himself between Will and Bill who was now standing on the floor.

"Do you want ham or turkey?" asked Bill. When he turned his head, he gasped aloud in fright and back away. "Since when does my son have a huge black nose, golden muzzle, big brown eyes, floppy ears, and sit on all four legs. Not to mention, I don't think my son pants."

"I think he'll take either one father," noted Will.

Bill pushed the dog aside. "I'll feed you later Mr. Paws. Ham or turkey?"

"Ham and turkey," replied Will.

Not surprisingly, Bill handed Will a sandwich on rye bread with a sly smile on his face. "I also have light mustard, cheddar and mozzarella cheese, and a single leaf of lettuce."

"You still know me," said Will with a smile on his face as he steadied the plate in his lap.

"You're my son. Rebel or not, your taste of food will not change," said Bill.

"Did you drink whenever you were in port or are you just saying that?" Will asked. "Because you really don't drink much."

"There is a reason for that Little One," said Bill, pushing Orion toward the foot of the bed and resuming his place beside his son. "I did drink every time we were in town. I knew my father didn't like it when I had a glass of wine without his permission. He watered everything else down still. One third water, two third alcohol. Gabe was the opposite if not three quarter water one quarter alcohol. If my father caught me drinking straight rum I knew he would kill me, but he didn't have to. The first time I drank alcohol I was carried back to the ship, passed out. Of course, when we were in town we got free roam as long as the two of us stayed together. Naturally, I always strayed away from Gabriel into the nearest tavern. Like you, I passed for older than fourteen years old. I appeared a late sixteen early seventeen so when my age was asked I told them seventeen or nearly seventeen. Most of the time it passed. I was a paying customer and most patrons don't care to bother about age as long as he has the money to pay. There was the occasional elder gentleman who saw past the lies, but they never made a big fuss of it.

"Three glasses later I was completely drunk. Yes, Will, three glasses of rum gets me drunk to the point of nearly passing out. I cannot hold my liquor. I think I got kicked out of the tavern because I was acting obnoxious and drunk. I cannot be sure of this, but I think I collapsed in the middle of the street. Mind you, I brought my bottle of rum with me from the tavern. Someone found me and brought me back to my father. I'm horrible at rebelling because half the time, my rebelling led to me near death. Low and behold, I gave myself alcohol poisoning. Like you, I was given medicine so I could have my head in a bucket for over a day."

"You know about that?" Will asked, his face narrowing and shying away.

"Yes, Will. Your school does inform me what you have done. I have quite the little drawer of letters," said Bill.

"Anyway, so what happened after that?" Will said quickly, making his best effort to change the subject.

With a shake of his head toward his son's not so tricky method, Bill enjoyed half his sandwich while keeping an eye on Will, who was looking away. He swallowed and continued. "After a few days I woke and Father and Gabriel held me for hours. Father wasn't quite sure what happened, nor did he understand why I did it. Because I couldn't understand either quite simply because I couldn't remember, he let the subject matter go. Why press an issue that the victim doesn't remember?"

"Would that explain why you don't drink?" asked Will.

"Reasons because it takes three glasses of rum for me to give myself alcohol poisoning and it's embarrassing since I'm the only one in this family who can't hold his liquor? Aye, that be it," replied Bill.

"It might be worse being able to drink more than the rest of your friends," noted Will.

"How so?" Bill asked casually, trying not to give the intention of getting into his son's head.

"I'm not falling for that," Will told him, looking at him. "I agreed you to explain your story then I might tell you. I haven't decided yet."

"Fair enough," agreed Bill.

They sat, quietly eating their sandwiches and drinking fresh juice. A father and son moment suddenly arose when mustard dripped from Will's sandwich and he quickly raised his head so it wouldn't fall across his chest. Bill laughed for several moments as he wiped the mustard from his son's face because of the spilled mustard and the expression across Will's face as he tried not to laugh, not to mention Orion suddenly coming to service and licking half the mustard from Will's face.

Bill watched as his Little One gave Orion a sandwich. He was so very close to cracking his son's thick head. They had been in the same room for quite some time now and neither broke into a fight. He made note that Will was showing particular interest in the stories he was sharing. Those that father and son shared he saw Will slightly smile or look away, because it happened in two generations. When he made the comment all he wanted to do was make his own father proud, he saw Will shut his eyes and lower them in thought. He knew Will didn't know an eighth of how alike they were and it was because he was so much like Will that he was going to get through to him. He knew after he showed his son his back and told him about that day in prison Will would break. He knew what Will feared the most. His Little One feared losing him. Ever since that day when he was three and a week without his father and the thought that he could have been nonexistent in his life, Will feared losing him. The only problem was that Will already lost part of him and it was nothing his son could have done.

As Orion licked his face after being fed a sandwich, Will smiled. His dog was the greatest gift his father gave him. Orion wasn't given to him for Christmas or his birthday. Nope. One day his father came home holding a golden retriever with unusually red fur and plopped him in his lap. A change of pressure on the left side of the bed took his attention to that side. He watched his father collect the plates onto the little tray.

"Do you want anything else?" Bill asked.

Nodding, Will pointed to the left side of his bandaged forehead. "Pull the stitches out?"

"Itching?" assumed Bill.

"It's been all day," said Will.

"Okay," said Bill softly. He brushed the back of his fingers across Will's cheek. "I'll be right back."

"I'm not going anywhere," said Will.

"Don't try it!" Bill told him firmly and with quite an amount of concern in his voice.

"I know if I break something the whole limb will come off and I don't think Uncle Alex can live with himself after doing that," noted Will.

Bill grabbed his son's hand into a firm grip. "Don't."

"I'm not," said Will.

"Okay," replied Bill.

Unexpectedly, Will felt his father's warm lips on his cheek again. It was so very unexpected to him, but by the manner it was done, it was an act of everydayness from his father. He watched his father leave the room with one last glance at Will before disappearing beyond the door. Had things really changed between the two of them? Everything his father did was natural and common. Maybe he was the only one who thought things were different. When he was behaving and not rebelling, his father wasn't different. But, when he was rebelling, he was scolded and punished like any father would do to his son.

Maybe, things just changed in Will's mind. Everyone was the same as they were a year ago. It must have been just in his mind that everyone changed and there was no going back. Children had a sixth sense around danger and avoided everything that had the unfamiliar danger aura around it. Little Aidan kept coming back to him. If he was really this dangerous rebel then Aidan wouldn't want to be around him. In fact, since his rebellious streak, Aidan wanted to get closer and closer to him.

Another thought passed through Will's head as he gave attention to his dog. Was Aidan learning from him? Did Aidan look up to him as his teacher and try to do everything that he did? He knew Aidan loved him more than the world and favored him out of the entire family, including his parents. While he was away at school, there were nights Aidan had to sleep in his bed because he wasn't there to read him a story or tuck him in. Aidan wanted him to get him in bed more than his mother or father. If Aidan was looking up to him and learning from him then he was teaching Aidan horrible things. He didn't want Aidan doing what he did. There was no good in rebelling. It did change people.

It wasn't just he who thought everyone changed. Everyone did change. His cousin Dirk hardly spent time with him at school. The only times they were together were when they were in their suite studying and even then they were in their separate rooms. Dirk used to ask him for help on his work all the time, but the past year he went to his other friends. When he was in public in the eyes of the rest of the school, he noticed Dirk tended to keep quiet. There were those times that what he did spread around school and Dirk hid from the world. And those days that Dirk didn't attend class. Was that because he was afraid someone would mention what he had done? Dirk had gotten quieter in the past year. It couldn't have been his fault could it?

Lily and Andrew. They hardly spent time with him. His three younger siblings used to love being together all the time. They did everything and he taught them so much. There were days that Lily and Andrew and Aidan couldn't get enough of him. Their favorite and his favorite was lying out under the stars in the yard. He would lay a huge blanket for them and they would all lie on their backs. Aidan was always on his right, Lily on his left, and Andrew across from him. They formed four points of the compass rose when sprawled out. He would point out every constellation to them and tell the story of how they came to be. More than not, they would make up their own stories. Their light would be a jar of fireflies caught before the star gazing and released after lessons were over.

Ever since he began getting caught and rebelling, he saw less and less of them. He had to admit to himself he told them off half, well most of the time and he was never nice about it. He usually told them to get off his back and stop nagging at him. The last time little Andy spoke to him he screamed at him. All Andy wanted to do was read Captain's Johnson's A General History of the Pyrates with him. It was Andrew's favorite game. He would read a chapter about a certain pirate and show his little brother everything by means of maps and charts and the globe in the office. He would show Andrew the ships and differences between them and the weapons they used. He screamed at him to stop being so annoying and that he shouldn't exist in the world. He told Andrew he hated him. That was the last time Andrew talked to him. Christmas break. Over half a year, he hadn't heard Andrew's voice and Andrew was rarely alone in the same room as him.

Lily. She was anything but a girl and they connected well, but not as well as his brothers did. He was her everything. Anytime she needed help with something not related to being a female, he was her first pick. He didn't do anything specific to cause her to stray away from him per se. They simply fell apart over time. He used to protect her like mad. Any boy who looked at her wrong and he would see to it that there was a warning issued. She knew that he protected her from anything. The two of them had a joke. She once made note that "my boyfriends won't have to pass Daddy's inspection and get his approval. They will have to go through you before they can get to Daddy." She was right about that. He still cared for her, but she really didn't come to him after a while. Unlike Andrew, she knew that it was best to stay away from him because he was never in the mood.

Felicity was only four and Thomas was just a year old so they didn't understand much about him. She never really was around him anyway, but he was like a second father to her. If Alexander was busy, she usually went toddling over to him for fatherly advice.

Alexander and Colleen changed since he went rebellious. They used to enjoy his company especially his Uncle Alex. Alexander loved doing things with him. Whenever there was something he needed to do in town, he would throw his coat at him and tell him to come along. If he was sailing up or down the Thames to fetch something, he was always dragged with. He didn't learn sailing from his father. No, his uncle taught him everything he needed to know about sailing. They did everything together. Whenever Alexander was having a bad day, he would always go to him because he could always cheer up his uncle. They day he told his uncle that he was accepted into the medical course at school may have been one of the greatest days of his uncle's life. He made his uncle so proud that it brought him to tears. Hardly anyone was accepted into that course, but he studied so hard and everyone said he cheated since he was Alexander Seastone's nephew. The days Alexander went up to Eton to teach a week or two about medicine, he was always his test subject. To have an extra two weeks together and during school made him so happy.

Now, his uncle was disappointed and lonely. Sure, he had Christian sailing up and down the Thames with him, but his town visits were alone. They hadn't done hardly anything together in quite some time and it was his fault. The last time they really spoke him and his uncle got into the worst argument ever. It was a simple question if he wanted to go up the Thames. It became a screaming match that ended when Alexander slammed the door with enough force that broke one of the porcelain pots across the foyer. He was later told by Christian that half the time he was in tears. At the time, that didn't matter to him, but now that he thought about it, he never realized how much he was loved by his uncle. But they really fell apart when he dropped the medical course at school. The day Alexander received the letter that he dropped there was constant glare and look of disappoint on his face. They hardly spoke.

Richard aged. His grandfather aged so horribly. He was an old man. He was sixty years old after all, but his appearance did not look his age until recently. Before, there was more blonde hair than white and enough to be pulled back in a ponytail behind his head. Now, his hair was a sliver and rapidly decreasing in thickness. They ponytail was slim, very slim indeed. There were deep wrinkles on his face and he was constantly tired. He was drinking more than anyone would like to admit. His grandfather was the reason he wasn't expelled from school yet. Headmaster and his grandfather were old, childhood friends. Undoubtedly, there were many more letters sent to his grandfather than there were to his father and those letters were probably notifications that he was going to be expelled. Only his grandfather would use his swift use of words to keep him in school. It was probably his grandfather who got him out of the Tower of London much sooner than he should have.

Will slumped lower against his pillows. He wondered how many times his grandfather defended his name and the Seastone name in Parliament. It wasn't just teenagers that he messed with. His rebelling was a giving his family name a horrible reputation and several Lords were given hell because of him. If anyone knew exactly everything he did, it was probably his grandfather. There were days his grandfather would come home from Parliament and not say anything to anyone. He would sit down with his cup of tea after skipping dinner. He wouldn't drink it. It would just sit beside him. His head would be in his palm and his eyes low with disappointment and such sadness. Whenever he would walk in the room, even if it was for a moment, he would get a head shake from his grandfather and the older man would leave the room altogether.

His parents really hadn't changed really. He knew his father was his father and well, was his father. His father was a father to him and did what was necessary to punish him. His mother however, avoided him altogether. She too would sometimes sneak in his room while he was on break from school and sit with him, probably because he was no different asleep. He was just her son. On the other hand, he knew it was hurting his parents getting all these letters from school saying what he had done and knowing that he snuck away at night and that he didn't care. They gave up on telling him what to do long ago.

He and his Uncle Gabriel were never exactly close, but they hardly saw each other nowadays. He knew Gabriel told Dirk to stay away from him and learn from his mistakes. It was something Gabriel would do to keep his only son safe from the world. There was disappointment in his Uncle Gabe's eyes. He knew that.

But, the change that hurt the most wasn't anyone in his family. He didn't hurt his family as much as he did three brothers. They hardly saw him anymore. One of them was a half hour walk away, and he never came over. Every week one of the brothers would bring his wife and family, but he hardly saw him. When he was a child before attending school, his weeks consisted of spending a few days down at Navy Headquarters with eldest of these brothers. Will realized that he learned from him more than he did anyone else.

Everyone changed and Cutler, Harrison, and Theodore Beckett changed the most. He had known Cutler since birth and the three brothers were so very close to the family, considering the relationship his father had with Cutler even after he was branded a pirate with Jack Sparrow. Being branded pirates and still having the courage to speak caused the friendship the three of them had to be unbreakable. It was after his father showed Cutler the burn to hide a burn that the former dedicated marine decided he wasn't on the right side. He branded his best friends pirates for doing what was right because he had to. He was a marine and it was either the hanging or branding. In reality, Cutler should have given the order to hang his father and Jack, but he didn't. He couldn't and branding the two of them was bad enough and when they returned to the Navy Headquarters with request for another mission—it was a thing unheard of since everyone there knew what they did.

Because they had the courage to do what was right rather than smart, Cutler finally got the courage to stand up to his father and, although his relationship with his father wasn't exactly close, they were still all right with each other. Nowadays, their father and son relationship was much better. Rebecca and the children caused him and his father to bond.

Growing up, Will was taught the book work of sailing by Cutler. He was taught numbers and plotting courses and map reading in his office when he was supposed to be attending paperwork. His father was there on business so he always went with because he wanted to spend time with Beck, as Cutler was more known to the Seastones. He learned numbers by calculating the gains and losses from each week. There were days he and Cutler would sit on the floor with the paperwork laid out in front of them and he did the calculating. Other days, he was quizzed on the countries and oceans of the world and trade routes by the huge map in his office. He knew every person in the Royal Navy from mere Midshipmen to Lord Admirals and they knew him. He wasn't even in the Royal Navy and he could simply walk through the doors, past the desk, and into any office he pleased. Normally, appointments had to be made for persons not in the Navy, and certainly no one could just walk in. If he was in town and he happened to pass by, he would bring Beck and Harry lunch.

There were times when he was invited to come to a meeting between Captains and Admirals to check the mathematics of the costs for an endeavor of some sort. Everyone knew he was brilliant when it came to numbers and because he knew his numbers, he was often also asked to plot a course and predict the time it may take. One year ago, he was sitting in listening to meetings no non marine should have. Half his summer was spent with the two eldest Beckett brothers at Navy Headquarters and the other half was spent being a fifteen year old. It was odd because everyone at school knew he was unofficially working for the Royal Navy at age fifteen without having gone through the Academy.

All that changed however, just like the rest of his life. It had been nearly a year since he was with the man who was like his second father. The day Cutler and Harrison caught him and the rest of his rebellious band of friends wreaking havoc on the ship was the day he lost something with them. One wouldn't have thought it so horrible, but that fact of the matter was that these ships were guarded behind a gate that only commanders had. Because he knew everyone, it was no difficult task walking into an office, taking a key and unlocking the gates at night. There was always something wrong about what he did to those ships. It was only a few nails and untying knots in the lines, but it never felt right. He only did it because the rest of the rebels he knew wanted to do it too and he enjoyed the adrenaline that rushed through him as he snuck around and the idea that they could be caught at anytime.

When they were caught, the expressions on the brothers' faces nearly killed him. They were shocked and disappointed and saddened and hurt. They knew he was the one who got the key. Not once did they look at him as they took the boys to the Tower of London. Rather, Harrison was the one who took them to the Tower. Cutler shook his head at him and walked away. That was the last time he saw him. His trust and the relationship he had with everyone in the Royal Navy disappeared with a snap. He was now just like every other person on the street. If he wanted to speak with someone, he had to make an appointment. Many school friends were lost as well.

That day in the Tower for questioning was the most frightening and guilty and life changing day of his life. He sat there with Stephen and Terry on his right, Jonathan and Baldwin on his left. David was overseeing it and he was a very close friend of the family's as well. Harrison and few others of the Admirals were the one's doing the questioning. Halfway through, George walked in and the look of shock that passed across his face when he saw him was horrible. The King of England himself couldn't believe that William Turner, his best friend did this. That was a relationship lost. The last time King George invited him to the palace to simply spend time together was a year ago. And yes, there was time he was also able to walk into Buckingham Palace without an invitation. He and the King of England were best friends and he ruined that too.

The incident with the ships should have caused so much more punishment than a day in the Tower for questioning. The fact of the matter was that no one knew what to do with him. Even the King of England said the boys could go free without punishment by him even though they did trespass and vandalize his ships. Will knew there wasn't much for them to do because he was the one who got the key and if he wasn't allowed to simply walk in anymore that problem would be solved. That was the day he knew there was no going back from his rebellious streak and all he could do was continue to live up to his name.

"Alex said it was all right to pull out the stitches."

"Ahh!" Will cried and gasped all at once, startled adrenaline shooting through him. "OW!"

"You jumped quite a distance I agree," noted Bill.

"Ow, ow, ow," whispered Will as he held his breath to avoid breathing.

His sobs of utter pain escaped through his teeth as the tears did was could be described as fell from his eyes and avoided his face all together.

Two warm palms on his face wiped away the tears and comforted the pain. "It's okay. It's all right Little One. You'll be fine."

"I just wish it would stop hurting. I wish all the pain would go away," Will whispered so softly it was difficult for one to hear.

"It will," Bill told him softly. "All pain leaves us eventually. Both mental and physical. Believe me, I know. What were you thinking about?"

Will shrugged a shoulder as he wiped his eyes and nose. "I was just thinking," he lied.

"All right," said Bill, not pressing the matter further, but knowing thought that deep revolved around something specific.

Orion softly whined and whimpered as he set his hand in Will's lap. All dogs had the sixth sense and knew something was wrong with their human master and that golden retriever was no exception.

"I'll be okay Orion," Will told him, rubbing his dog's nose then moving to his golden red head.

Bill set the few medical supplies-bowl of warm water, tweezers, small scissors, rag, and some sort of ointment-on the bed and sat in front of his son. He unwound the heavy bandaging and chuckled when he showed Will the ball.

"That's Uncle Alex for you," Will smiled.

"Oh, yes, these need to come out," noted Bill.

The closed wound above his son's right eye was red and raw as was the skin around it. The black stitches were beginning to pull and tug more than needed not to mention seal within the healing skin.

"You know, you have I have something in common. We both have scars above our right eye and on our right arms and left side of our chests and on our right legs," noted Bill.

"Coincidence only," said Will, allowing his father's gentle hand to tilt his head to the lower left.

"Perhaps," questioned Bill.

"What do you mean?" wondered Will.

"You weren't the only one who gambled quite a lot William. I practically invented the tricks of Liar's Dice. I taught sailors to play the game and took all their money. Father hated gambling. He said it was a sin and a waste of time. It was a game of luck and fortune and useless, which I find amusing because piracy is a game of luck and fortune as well. Luck and fortune are what leads men to the treasure trove and is what led him to that cargo of cocoa beans."

"I still find that amusing," said Will with a smile. "Instead of gold and silver, your father happened upon a ship full barrels of cocoa beans and cocoa beans are worth more than gold and silver."

"Hot cocoa and cold cocoa," noted Bill.

"It's incredible that he had all that money to buy a ship and build a home in Scotland and take ownership of his own island and build a home there," said Will.

"Well, you know he didn't exactly have to buy the island Will. He stumbled upon it like the rest of the less than fifty people who live there. And I can see your reasoning since permission must be granted for persons other than us to live there," said Bill. "Anyway, I never traded cocoa beans though. I used real money and half the time I cheated. There were only three sides to the dice I had under my cup so I knew when to call a bet. No one ever caught me but my father and he simply told me it was not right."

"I taught the game to a few people at school. I never cheated but I always won. Of course, gambling isn't allowed, but that's why we did it at night," said Will.

"As for the women I was telling you about and me sleeping around, that's not a lie either," said Bill and before Will could say anything he explained. "I know, I know, I was fourteen years old and had no idea what I was doing. I didn't realize what I was doing when the women asked for money. I gave them the money and did it. Just don't, tell your mother about that. I've told know one that I paid them. Knowing what I was doing or not knowing what I was doing it was still very, very wrong and I don't want anyone to know. Father didn't even know that one. I never told him, nor did I ever want to. It wasn't until after I met your mother for the first time that I understood what I had done."

"I cannot believe you," said Will. "Here I am thinking my father did nothing wrong in his life and he is this great gift from above and you tell me that you drank and gambled and paid women—"

"And I was known to myself to occasionally have more than one woman in bed with me," added Bill.

Will immediately pushed his father's hand away from his forehead, grabbed the tweezers that held a piece of thread from his father just to turn his head to look at his father with an expression of incredulous and confusion. "You paid women, two at once to get in bed with you?"

"Actually it was their bed and yes I did," said Bill.

"I don't know you," Will told him, turning away but he turned back to his father. "You yell at me for doing normal acts of rebellion when you were the one at age fourteen paying two women at once to get in their bed. There is something so very wrong with that."

"I know," said Bill, turning bright red again. He grabbed the tweezers from Will and slightly tugged until Will leaned his head toward them in the attempt to relieve the tugging of his skin. "And none of that leaves this room. Okay? If I find you have told someone about that, there Will be Hell to pay and I say Will as in your name Will because Will be Hell because you will be in Hell after I get through with you."

"Understood," Will told his father immediately.

Within a few quick, quiet moments, Bill had the stitches pulled from his son's forehead and a dab of the cool plant oil to soothe the wound.

"What changed?" Will asked softly. "You had this rebellious streak and it had to have been more than your father's threat that changed you."

Bill drew a deep breath and shut his eyes, as his back was turned to his son since he was setting everything on the table. Fifteen. He was just fifteen when all of this happened. If anyone deserved to know this, it was Will. Richard and Charlotte and Alexander saw it. Gabriel was there. Will needed to know if he was going to be out sailing in the world like he always talked about.

"I broke," he replied softly and slowly pulling his robe from his person then finally pulling the tunic over his head. "Literally."

Had it been any other moment, the deep gasp and sudden movement of his ribs would have caused Will more pain. This time was different. He felt no pain. He did not feel himself breath or hear it. He did not feel his racing pulse. He felt nothing, heard nothing, tasted nothing, smelled nothing. The only sense in him was sight.

There his father's back was exposed to him, something no one saw and for good reason. It had to be them. They had to have done it to him. Only someone like them could have done that to his father. He knew they hurt his father, but he didn't think hurt meant torture. He reached his fingers out, but pulled back and face remained agape as he observed with awe.

One would have thought that after twenty three years the scars wouldn't appear as gruesome as they did. His father's back was a discolored, scarred, ugly mess. Some scars were pink others were red. Areas of his skin were thinner and others were thicker. The center of his back had the appearance of some artwork a child would have done with reds and creams and tans and all at once. There were literal crevasses in his father's back where the lash cleaved his flesh from his bone and the process was repeated dozens of times. The whole backside of his father's torso from his shoulders down to his hipline was like this. Yes there was enough skin on his right shoulder to sustain the mark of the Pirate, the Marine, and the Nobleman he, Jack, and Cutler shared, but the black was not a consistent color. The lash marks when around his sides and shoulders. He didn't mean to but he reached out and pressed his palm in the very center of his father's back. The skin was frail and when he pulled the first layer followed.

"Papa," he called softly.

Bill turned around and when he saw the tear lines on his son's face, he sat on the bed beside Will and pulled him in his arms.

Will noted a few lashes across his father's chest and belly as well.

"Forty nine total over the course of a month," replied Bill. "And I can't feel most of my back. The damage done was more great than you would imagine. Every time it was beginning to heal, it was ripped open again and the final healing measure was heat. I lost most of the feeling in my back. So the last time I was truly held by anyone, it was by my father twenty three years ago and I hardly remember it."

"Why?" wondered Will softly. "Why did they do this to you?"

"It was the Navy Will. You know I was a pirate before I came here. The huntings of the Golden Age pirates were not over yet. Father was one of those who were wanted more alive than dead. He had information. Even before you were born, the Royal Navy had speculation that there was a court of pirates, not to mention they knew the Golden Trio was alive. Father wasn't one of them, but he knew everyone of them. They were hunting down a man named Edward Teague because he was the leader of the pirate court and the Trio and they knew Turner could lead them to him."

"As in Jack's father?" asked Will.

"Aye," replied Bill. "Don't go telling Jack this either. He'll never forgive himself. Eddy knows. Believe me, Eddy knows. He promised me he would never forgive himself. You know—"

"The Trio! The Golden Trio!" Will cried with his voice cracking.

"I know," Bill said calmly, hoping to soothe his son's anguish. "Do not tell your grandfather I'm here partly on his account as well. If he ever found out that my father, Aidan Turner, was killed because he was a wanted—I cannot imagine what he would do. Hector Barbossa, Edward Teague, and Nathaniel Rosewood were the trio, but Aidan Turner was an unofficial member. He was not listed as the trio because, but Richard always said he was as part of it as the rest of them. Well, the Navy found us. We were coming home for winter. I was a month fifteen years old. They took father and Gabe and I. They killed everyone else. In the beginning, they were nice about things because of us. You know the Navy does not go to extremes unless it is needed, and unfortunately, it was needed. The Trio was one step behind Blackbeard in terms of wanted dead if not more. When they realized talk was not effective, they started on the youngest.

"Gabe wasn't hurt too badly. Just a few light lashes and twisted limbs. He was twelve and just a child. They even knew it was wrong to torture a twelve year old who was too scared to say anything. Besides, they knew Father would not share this information with a twelve year old.

"Then they moved onto my father thinking he would break or one of us would tell them something. Father was lashed and beaten quite a bit. He said nothing."

Bill shut his eyes. "Will this may take some time for me to explain, but I'm telling you this because you and I are more alike than you will ever know and I don't want you finding yourself in this same situation." He drew a deep breath and continued. "Father knew what their intentions were before they did it. While Gabe was asleep one night, he pulled me in his arms and told no matter what they did to me, not to say anything. I knew everything. I knew all the Lords by name and who the Trio was and the location to Shipwreck Cove. He told me the three of us were never going to see home again. I asked him why we couldn't tell them, thinking they would let us go. He told me we were pirates and after they got the information, they would hang us and kill the rest of them. All of us. Including little twelve year old Gabriel. He told me to be strong because they were going to try to break me and therefore break him and Gabriel. No matter how much it hurt or how much I wanted to say something, he told me not to.

"I knew what he meant. I knew exactly what he meant. I told him I was sorry for rebelling and not listening to him. All I wanted to do was make him proud and get his attention. After a while of my rebelling, I knew it was too late to turn back so I continued with my reputation. He told me none of that mattered anymore and that he should have tried harder to get it out of me. And he held me that night, and that was the last time I remember being held.

"The next day, just like we thought, they worked on me. It began with lashing. Ten hard lashes were the beginning of a living hell. He held Gabe and watched them do this to me knowing there was nothing he could do. Over the course of about a month, I was lashed forty nine times. I had needles shoved into my fingernails and left there overnight. I was shackled to the cell across from my father and brother. He could see me but he could never reach me. I was strangled by rope, nearly hanged. I was nearly drowned by my head being forced into a bucket of water. They beat me. They left me chained to the mast for days allowing nature to run its course upon me. I was hardly given food and water. By the time we reached England, I was bone thin. They did all that to me more than once. Because none of us said anything, they were frustrated so their anger was relieved on me.

"After a while, my mind tuned out the pain. I went into this odd sense. I knew exactly what was happening to me, but my mind never let me realize it. Part of the reason I did not allow myself to realize it was because I was already dying. I remember having odd dreams and seeing things. I really only remember images and some feelings.

"There was a time that Gabriel got the courage to try to save my life. We were in the Thames and they were lashing me some more. Gabe, who was never restrained because he clung to my father, found sudden courage, grabbed a knife from the table, and stabbed the one who was lashing me. He killed him. Well, after that, he was literally thrown down a flight of stairs in the belly of the ship. The initial impact was his left knee, which is why his knee is the way it is and a head injury left him in a coma. By this point in time, I was ready to die. I wanted to die.

"We were taken to the Execution Docks, like all pirates were and, given that it was only Tuesday, had a few days to wait until the customary Friday Noon hanging. Gabe and I were thrown in one cell and Father in the one beside us. I remember lying on the ground with my brother in my lap and my hand in my father's because his arm was through the bars. He never let me go. I was broken and a bloody mess by then. Breathing hurt. He knew if I didn't get help soon I would be dead before they could hang my neck.

"The next day passed and Gabriel slipped deeper. He was hardly breathing and I had developed a fever. The day after, a familiar face of my father's passed by. Miracles do exist in the oddest of forms. Richard Seastone, who was called upon by means of information about his missing wife, passed by. He said he saw us first and stopped to look at us because he couldn't believe what we looked like. He told me that when Father told him to save us, he sounded as though he was saying a prayer. After a bit of negotiating, Gabriel was taken right away. He was twelve years old and such a child. Despite that he was a pirate, there was time to change his ways of piracy. Me, however, I was fifteen and quite grown in their eyes. They wouldn't have it. I was too old to change. My ways had apparently been set.

"Richard spent the next day in Parliament fighting for my life. More than one person agreed that a fifteen year old mind was quite capable of changing and there were certain formalities he agreed to. Thursday night, he came for me. He told me that he had never seen the amount of joy and happiness those words brought to a man. He has not seen that expression since. The guard on watch that week who oversaw all of this, gave my father a blessing and prayer. He said that it was rightful he say goodbye to me. I swear I remember my father's goodbye. I can never remember it when I'm awake, but that place between awake and asleep I swear I see his face and hear his voice. I can't tell you what he said to me, but between consciousness it's right there.

"Friday, at ten thirty in the morning, Richard came back. He was given the last half hour to speak with my father in private. He told him that Gabe was all right and still alive and I had made the night, but there was much work to be done. Hearing the words that his two sons, the greatest treasures in his life were alive and in the care of someone he trusted, gave him joy in his final hours. Richard told him that if we made it, he would see to it that we would be taken care of personally. He said it was a hard goodbye to both a friend and the father to two amazing children. It Father having to lose us so unfairly, but we were alive.

"An hour and a half later, the noon bell rang announcing the hanging of the known pirate Aidan Turner. Richard was there. He felt he had to be there at the end because this man was someone very dear and close to him. It gives me comfort knowing the hangman did his job well. Father didn't feel anything. There was no pain. He had suffered much the past month that to have his life end painlessly comforts me. Richard had made arrangements for the body and several of the guards helped him. He wanted a place where the two of us could say our goodbyes and have our father when we needed him. As you know, he is resting beneath the safety of the willow tree in the woods by the stream.

"A month after that day, I finally woke up beside my baby brother and you know the rest."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Will whispered into his father's chest.

"And Gabe doesn't know about this even because Father doesn't want him to know," Bill said with deep breaths through his trembling lips. He produced an old, faded piece of paper from his pocket and nudged Will on the shoulder.

Will looked up at his father then down at the paper. He saw the name Little One written on the front. _Little One_. Why does his father have to call him Little One too?

"I don't think I should. It's the last thing you have of your father. You should keep it between you two," he told him.

"But to keep my father's legacy alive I have to," said Bill.

With a nod, Will took the paper in hand. He curled tighter into his father's body. First of all, he noticed that it was written in Gaelic, which made his heart break more. Out of all his siblings he was called Little One and he was the only one who fluently knew Gaelic.

_Little One,_

_Today is Friday, December 11. As I write this, eleven bells echo in the distance. My soul has a mere hour to remain in my body. You and your brother are safe and in the hands of a Lord of England and my best friend. I trust him with my life since that is all I have to give. Right now, I've been told little Gabe is recovering in a soft bed and you are undergoing surgery to help your wounds heal, but I know you are alive. One day, when your son is recovering, you will know what I mean. You always talked of having a family and all you ever wanted was a little boy. It's quite amusing. Fifteen year olds usually do not speak of having a family, but you are different. You've always been different. You have a love for books, like your mother._

_I haven't told you everything about her. I haven't told Gabriel either. She didn't just die Little One. She was taken from us. You were five and Gabriel was three. I was away in Glasgow on business when news reached us that our town was invaded by Englishmen. By the time I got there, so many lives were already lost. I found you protecting your baby brother and your mother hovering over you two. I was able to get us all out, but not for as long as I would have hoped._

_You see, the men were killed, the women would be used for amusement, and the children sold into slavery. As we were leaving to cross the river, we were spotted. You two were already safely on the ferry. I told your mother to go. She shook her head. A son's life without his father was not possible. Your mother has the most hearted, loving soul I have ever known. What she did followed in my footsteps as I took each step with you two. She pushed me onto the ferry and shoved off herself. By the time I had gotten to my feet, she was already walking towards them and we were in the middle of the river. Your mother gave her life for you two._

_I could never bring myself to tell you until now and I'm sorry to say that it has to be done an hour before my death._

_Having you two in my life was the greatest gift of all. I loved you two the moment you arrived in my world, but my world shattered when you were eight years old. Every day and even know as these tears fall onto these words, I have not forgiven myself and I have no intention of seeking forgiveness from you. How can I? It was by my carelessness that you were up there. Before that moment, you had such a wild and free spirit. It reminded me of your mother. You never questioned anything. You just went out there and did it. I often thought you were the like the wind. The wind goes wherever it wants when it wants. You were just like that. After that day, you became quiet and careful. You grew into a love for books and a thirst for knowledge, but there was good reason for that. I still miss my little Blackbird. Yes, that was what I called you. You were free like a bird and you dreamed about meeting Blackbeard._

_The past year was my fault. I wasn't as good of a father as I had hoped to be. I should have told you about women, but I was afraid you would ask about your mother. You were fourteen and I knew you were not ready for the truth. I still don't think you are, but I have no choice. I should have sat you down and asked you why you were behaving like this. You are not a rebel, not even before eight were you a rebel. You have a kind, fiercely loving soul. I can only imagine your son will have the same soul as well. _

_I wish I could be there on your wedding day. The woman you marry will be strong. She'll have to be from the horrors you've faced. She'll be beautiful and every man will envy you for being married to her. But, please, please, please, I beg you Little One, do not once on your wedding day look toward the sky and silently wish that I was there. I don't want you to know that you wish I was there because you will have a regret and I raised you to live with no regrets. But I fear as well, that you will not wish me to be there, because I fear you will have forgotten me._

_Oh, William, how I dreamed of watching you have a family of your own. I dream of it now. I always imagined a little boy who looks just like you and behaves in the same manner you would have before your were eight. I hope and pray that you have a son who has a wild, carefree spirit, who does not look before leaping, and whom you can call Blackbird because he too resembles the breeze._

_I'm so proud of you. You did what I told you to do. You were strong when I wasn't. You held on through all that pain and suffering. Even when I prayed for death to come upon you in my arms, you held on tightly. I'm so very proud of you Little One. I know you will make it because you have a strong soul. You have your mother's soul. You will live to grow old, much older than I, and you will die surrounded by your children and grandchildren and an old, happy man who knows his time has come. I long for that day, yet I hope it is not soon._

_I wish I could have had more time with you, but my time was cut short. Clearly, you are meant to carry on without me in the world. We all have our destinies and mine has been fulfilled. You will live on through me. I know this will be very difficult for you. Losing your father is. You must be strong and hold onto your brother. You and your brother are half of me and together you are whole of me. I'll never be far from you. When you feel as though someone is watching, yet no one is there that will be me. That place between awake and asleep is where our precious memories are held._

_There have been a few items that have been saved from the men that took them. You have my black knife. The knife has been in our family for generations and is given to the first born son to carve a new era of Turners. In times of darkness, the knife has never failed me and it will never fail for you. It is said that the blood of every Turner who wielded it remains on the blade and my blood has been there and so will yours. Happen chance causes the blood to imprint upon it. Somehow, your beautiful compass is now in the right hands. It has but one heading, toward Polaris. When you lose your way in the world, it will point toward that constant and help you find that new path._

_I ask one more favor of you, do not tell Gabriel about this letter. I don't want him knowing that I said my goodbyes to you and not him. It will break his heart, but he and I already said goodbye. We were able to settle everything while I held him all those long nights._

_I have to leave you now. My shackles await. I pray that my death will end swiftly, but I do not pray to the Lord. I pray to you so that you know my life ended quickly. If I must suffer, then it is only what I deserve for what I have done to you. I ask no forgiveness for the blame you hold for me. As long as your heart beats then mine does as well, as do all our name._

_Goodbye Little One and thank you for the joy you have brought me,_

_Father_

Will folded the paper with his one hand and returned the item into his father's hand. He curled tighter in his father's body, wishing he was not injured so he could curl into a little ball. The pain that should have come with his soft sobbing was not present. He was gasping and choking on his tears which should have caused hurt to his broken ribs. There was no physical pain.

A familiar, warm hand gently wiped away the tears from his eyes down to his jaw. He looked at his father and noticed his father was completely clothed again, but he made careful note that there were no tears in his father's eyes. There was just a bit of sadness and a smile of comfort. That was just like his father though. He wouldn't show any feeling in front of him.

"I want you to have this," Bill said quietly. In the palm of his fist was the blade to a knife and the hilt was black. "My sailing days are over. I'm needed more here. You have more use for this than I do."

"I don't want it," Will told him, shaking his head and burrowing it in his father's chest.

"It belongs to you Will. Belonging to me, it just sits in my sea chest waiting to be used. The knife belongs to the next generation now," said Bill.

"Are you dying?" Will asked.

"No," replied Bill softly. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I behave how you should. You call me Little One. I'm the only one who knows Gaelic. I'm your favorite child. We have scars that are exactly alike. If my eyes were blue, I would look exactly like you. You had a rebellious streak and I'm going through mine now. Your rebellion ended right before your father died," Will told him. "You were right: I am like you more than I know, but I don't want to be anymore like you because if I was like you anymore you would be dying. I'm hurt because of my rebelling and you lost your father when you were hurt and in your rebellion. And the last thing your father gave to you was that black knife and the compass. And you're trying to give the knife to me. I don't want it."

"Will, you know I'm not dying. I'm fine. Sure I've lost a bit of weight and my perfect health in the past year, but I'm nowhere close to dying," said Bill.

"I don't want to lose you," Will told him.

"You're not going to Little One," Bill whispered.

"There is no going back is there?" Will questioned softly.

Understanding what he was saying and meant, but wanting to see it on his son's face, Bill gently raised his son's until their eyes were looking into each other's. He shook his head. "It will take time to lose the reputation you have acquired and even more time to rebuild the trust you lost especially us."

"Then it is too late," Will told himself.

"I shouldn't be telling you this but I'm going to because I feel you deserve to know," said Bill. "We weren't just going sailing to go sailing. We were going to spend the summer in Hot Cocoa since you and Dirk had never been there, and it was going to be the last time you were with us for a while. You had one last summer with us. After we came back home, we intended on giving you two options. You would have the choice between attending the Naval Academy and becoming a Marine or finishing your schooling in Scotland and I know you know what school I am referring to. Your grandfather fought the entire year to keep you in Eton. When you walked out with me was the last time you will walk out. Richard managed to keep you in for the rest of that year, but he was told that you would not be coming back. After we got that notice, we agreed there were only two options. I managed to convince them to let you choose. You know that if you chose the Navy, two brothers will have no say in what happens to you and you know what that school is like."

"What is my say in this? I get to choose if I want the belt or lash. Is that my say in this matter?" assumed Will.

"You made your choice when you decided to behave like this Will. We did nothing. We at least made the attempt to try to get in your head. The more we sought you help you the more you tore away from us. We don't—I don't know what to do with you anymore. I though telling you how alike we are may give me what I am looking for," said Bill.

"And what is that? Are you going to choose where you send me? Are you just going to get rid of me?" Will asked.

"I want a simple answer. You changed the day after your sixteenth birthday. I want to know why, because I want to fix it. I don't want to send you into the Navy or to a different school. They think that if you are broken you will come back. I know that if you're broken anymore because of our account, you'll never come back. You will never by my Will again. I don't want to lose you because you think there is no going back. People do change for the better Will. You see it every day."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Will said softly.

"We're more alike than you know," reminded Bill.

Will looked up at his father. "What if I told you the reason is because you and I are so alike? What if I told you Blackbird was the reason?"

Bill brushed a loose curl from his son's face and wiped away a slowly falling tear. He had the feeling he already knew the reason. Blackbird was his father's nickname for his wild spirit. He and Will were once wild and carefree. Will did have his free soul. Sixteen. Will changed when he was sixteen years old. For a noble, sixteen years old was the end of his childhood and beginning of his days as an adult.

As he looked down at Will, he suddenly knew what happened and his fault was to blame more than the rest of them, but there was too much that he didn't know about Will.

"I'm listening Little One," he whispered.

* * *

**A Note From TurtleHeart: i apologize for taking such a long time to update. i currently have four stories i'm juggling online and i know i should finish a story then move on to another one. trust me i know that, but i have what you call a combination of writer's block and story boredom quite often. well, i have no idea when i will update but it won't be too long i hope cuz i 'm sure you all want to know what changed Will.**

**until then happy readings!**


	4. Mental Scars Hurt Worse

Before Will even thought of beginning his story and where to begin for that matter, a certain four year old came running in the room after slamming the door to his oldest brother's suite and then slamming his bedroom door and locking it and then finally running in his brother's closet and shutting that. He must have found clothes and coats to pile on top of himself because the sound of something falling was heard through the walls.

Will and Bill simply shared a glance to each other.

"Aidan Benjamin Edmund Seastone-Turner you get over here right now!"

The teenager wiped his eyes as his father pressed his lips onto his forehead and pulled a few curls before getting up and curiously stepping over to the closet. He knocked on the door.

"Aidan, it's your father," he called and knocked again. "Can I come in?"

"No, you'll kill me too," a sobbing voice whispered.

"How can I kill you if I don't know what you did?" wondered Bill.

"Mummy will tell you and then you'll me too," Aidan sobbed.

"Why does your mother want to kill you?" wondered Bill.

"And Uncle Gabriel and Uncle Alex and Grandfather and Aunt Colleen. They're gonna kill me," Aidan sobbed.

"Father," Will called. He motioned his father to approach.

Bill went to his teenage son's side. "What?"

"You go talk to Mum about what he did and I'll get it out of him," Will suggested.

"I'm not sure I want to go near your mother right now," replied Bill with a raised eyebrow.

"Papa, I think you should calm Mum before she breaks down every door in this house looking for him," Will said. "And I want my doors."

"Fine," Bill sighed. "But this doesn't get you out of telling me your story."

Will shook his head. "No, I need to do some explaining."

"How about tomorrow then? It's quite late and you do need rest to recover," said Bill.

"No!" Will cried. Once again making a sharp sudden movement, he pressed his palm across his chest. "No," he said much calmer. "I think I'll only—well, it depends on Aidan. I get the feeling he really did something bad."

"What makes you say that?" asked Bill.

"For one, he's crying and hiding. Two, the instinct of an older brother tells me something happened. Three, I can hear Alex and Grandfather yelling for him too," Will said.

Bill's eyes narrowed. He leaned his head closer to the door and concentrated on the sounds around him. Alexander and Richard were definitely hollering for Aidan and they were not happy. They sounded more frightened than upset.

Suddenly, Aidan ran out of the closet with his hands over his mouth. Thankfully, he found a bowl before vomiting all over his older brother's floor.

"Aidan?" Will said quickly.

"Aidan," Bill called, immediately going to his son's side.

When he reached his littlest one's side, he noticed a familiar smell coming from the four year old. He wasn't sure, but it smelled like alcohol. Aidan couldn't have known where the key was and Will said he snuck drinks at night and Aidan slept all night. Richard bore out a hole for the key and had a block placed on top to keep the key more protected from young hands since there were quite a few children in the house. Looking at it, no one would suppose the key was hidden there. The only possible way Aidan could have gotten to any alcohol was if he took it from someone's glass when he wasn't looking.

"Aidan, do you have something you want to tell me?" he asked softly.

Huge tears fell from the four year old's eyes as he shook his head. He immediately ran for his brother's bed and hid under the blankets.

Will felt a head rest on his leg and little arms wrap around that leg. He quickly thanked everything holy that his brother didn't grab his right leg. Concerned, he patted his brother's head.

"I'm going to have a talk with your mother," Bill said, his voice curious and frightened.

Will gave a nod of his head as he watched his father leave. Once he heard his main door open, he waited a few moments before pulling the blanket down. Aidan was clinging tightly to his thigh. His face was buried into his brother's leg and was bawling softly.

"Come here, but gently," Will said, opening his arm. Aidan shook his head. "Papa's gone."

"You sure?" Aidan asked.

"He's not in here anymore," said Will.

Immediately and not as gently as Will would have liked, Aidan slumped against his brother's torso and wrapped his little arms around his brother's neck. Will hummed and rubbed his back. He pulled his blue blanket further upward to wrap it around Aidan. When he went to kiss his brother's head, he also smelled the scent of alcohol.

"What did you do? You know I won't kill you. I'm your biggest brother. You can tell me anything. We made a promise remember? No secrets," said Will.

"You did it first," said Aidan.

Will swallowed hard. His brother smelled of alcohol and he was just sick and he was running away from the house who were all chasing after him and he just said "you did it first". That was never a good sign. "What did I do?" he asked.

"You drank the bad stuff first. I saw you," said Aidan.

Will's head slowly fell back until it slammed against the wall behind him with a knock. He exhaled slowly and shut his eyes. Great. His youngest brother was looking up to him for advice and how to live. He was teaching his brother the worst habits imaginable.

"Aidan, just because I did something isn't a good reason for you to do it too," Will told him.

"But I wanna be just like you. You're my biggest brother," Aidan said, curling into his brother's chest.

"Aidan, alcohol is bad for you. Don't drink it," Will said.

"Then why did you?" wondered Aidan.

"Where did you find the key?" asked Will.

"I asked you first," said Aidan.

"I did it because I'm older and it's what we drink at school at night," Will said quickly. "Now answer my question."

"When everyone was out of the room I took a chair and stepped on it and looked for the key and I found it under a piece of wood in the right corner," replied Aidan.

"What did you drink?" Will asked, trying to contain his mix of emotions that was beginning to make him feel sick to his stomach.

"A drink of everything and I left the bottles on the table because someone was walking in the room and I didn't want to get caught," said Aidan.

"Do you feel any better?" Will softly asked, brushing the back of his fingers on both his brother's cheeks.

Aidan shook his little head. "My belly still hurts a lot."

"I think you should go lay down then," Will told him softly.

"I'm not going out there!" Aidan told him. "Mummy and Alex and Gabriel and Dirk and Grandfather and Colleen and Christian and everyone else is going to kill me."

"Father is talking with them now. I think if you go to your room they will let you be and when they see that you are sleeping I know they won't bother you. All right?" said Will. Aidan nodded. "And if they do start yelling at you then just run in here and I'll cover you."

"Can't I just stay in here with you?" Aidan softly asked, giving his brother those irresistible eyes that only his brother didn't seem to be bothered by.

Will looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a half smile as he shook his head. "I have to talk to Papa about something that happened to me a long time ago. You can stay in here until he comes back though. I'm sure he'll see to it that you get tucked in bed all warm and safe."

With a small nod, Aidan curled tighter into his brother's body. He was in a lot of trouble for something he didn't understand. Everyone drank what was in the cabinet. All the adults did and he saw his oldest brother drinking out of there too. His oldest brother didn't get yelled at for it so why was he? What was so bad about it? And why did it make him so sick? No one ever told him not to drink it so there was no reason for all of them to be yelling at him and saying they were going to kill him.

There was knock at the door that caused Aidan to squeeze his brother's body.

"Ow!" Will said, hiding all evidence of the scream he contained locked in his throat.

Alexander's head followed by his body entered through the doorway. There was no anger on his face, just a spot of disappointment. There was however, worry in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Aidan sobbed, little tears falling from his eyes as he was clinging to his brother.

"Aidan, you need to let go of me. You're crushing my ribs and my ribs are broken and it hurts badly enough without you crushing me," Will told me, feeling the sting of painful tears biting at his eyes.

"Come here you," Alexander softly said as he gently pulled Aidan into his arms, one arm under his little bottom and the other around his shoulders. "Your papa tells me you were sick. Is this true?"

"Mm hm," Aidan nodded with low eyes and a trembling lip.

"Do you still feel sick?" wondered Alexander.

Aidan simply shut his eyes and nodded as he curled against his uncle's body.

Alexander sighed. "I guess I can't blame you at all. I did the same thing when I was thirteen years old. No one told me any better either."

"You drank the bad stuff too?" wondered Aidan softly

Will nodded and motioned him to leave. It seemed to be timed because when his uncle left his father walked back in not a moment later.

Bill sat down beside his son and smiled at him. "Talk."

"Look, it probably won't make any sense to you so don't interrupt me. I think it's a perfectly good reason and I didn't know what else to do to make anyone listen and you still didn't listen to me," Will told him.

"Will, I already know," Bill said. "The day after your birthday we told you to grow up and become an adult. I know. We tried forcing to grow up overnight and you didn't know how to cope with it so you did the only thing you could think of and rebelled. You and the rest of us got out of hand and everything simply escalated."

"So why are you making me explain?" Will asked frustrated.

"Because you need to tell me what you did so I can help you get your life back," replied Bill.

Will turned away. "It only took you a year to realize it and no one else has any idea what happened. I should be explaining it to them not you."

"I'll tell them for you," said Bill.

"The night of my sixteenth birthday was perfect," said Will. "I had all my friends. We had a huge party. Everyone I knew I invited and _I _got to chose who came and who didn't. George was there. The King of England was there and he hardly goes anywhere. I think Navy Headquarters shut down for the night because I invited them all. Uncle Jack and Edward and Anamaria were there and so was Barbossa. It still amazes me no one was arrested that night. For the first time ever, I thought the ballroom was too small. Theo was the one who dealt with the music. The food was amazing. I got engaged to Elizabeth. That night was perfect. I didn't think anything could ever go wrong.

"I swear, I woke up the next day and all of you were suddenly telling me that I had to think about my future financial status and where I would like to apprentice. You were talking about my wedding which we still don't know when or where that will be. School was such a sudden priority. You took me in town and bought me new clothes that made me appear more like an adult. I come home and you're moving my things out of my room. Anything that resembles a child is being moved. Grandfather makes me attend more etiquette lessons and I'm to follow them in my daily activities.

"A week after my birthday I wanted to kill all of you. My life suddenly changed and that's when I got this idea in my head that I wasn't going to do anything of what you wanted me to do anymore. And that's when I started rebelling. My first act of rebellion was simple. I just didn't do what any of you told me to do and when you sent me to my room I simply read. Then I went to school and I began noticing I was being treated different there as well. Sure I was taking classes a year ahead of my age and two years ahead in some and everyone knew that, but I felt they were pressuring me to grow up and take responsibility too.

"I snapped and I knew who to go to let loose. Stephen, Terry, Jonathan, and Baldwin were the ones to find because they had everything. They couldn't believe I wanted to join them one night since they thought I was prissy and perfect. That was the first night we went to the rock and drank and the next day was the first time ever I wasn't at class without telling someone. I felt free when I wasn't in class and I could do whatever I want on the grounds because everyone was in class. I felt more free when someone didn't know where I was and I could do anything I wanted. There is this adrenaline rush that feels wonderful every time I rebelled against something. I'll admit I felt horrible when my professors tracked me down and asked me where I was the first few times, but I got over it.

"Every weekend we went to the rock and had drinking parties. There were women there but since I have an unbearably high tolerance for alcohol I could drink as much as them and still have most of my mind. If they got too close to me then I pushed them away. I never got into another girl's bed beside Elizabeth. She never did anything to me and I wasn't going to lose her just because of what all of you were doing to me. Some days I simply didn't go to school because I felt like fishing or running or just laying out in the grass or going for a walk in the woods. I liked to go into town and watch the people. I knew my grades were slipping and I didn't care. All of you expected me to be the smartest, most brilliant mind there was and I knew that so I just stopped going. After awhile, as you probably noticed, especially when you and Mum were called for a meeting, I didn't care."

"Let me tell you something Little One. When I got that letter saying your mother and I had to discuss a few things with your headmaster including your level switch, I was a frightening sight with destruction in my path. I think I may have pushed Gabe out of the way once or twice," admitted Bill.

"I know you wanted to kill me. I remember hearing you walk down the hall while I was sitting there," said Will.

Bill gave a shrug of his shoulders. "You are so smart and to see you put back in the level you should be, that hurt a lot. When you dropped out of the medical course, I didn't know what was wrong with you. You are medicine smart just like Alex. It killed him to receive that letter. None of us knew what had happened. We just knew we were disappointed."

"I know it hurt Alex a lot, but even he was telling me to grow up. I was sixteen years old and no one seemed to understand me, and I didn't know what to do and I found something like _I _liked to do. Rebelling was my way of keeping calm really. I did what I wanted when I wanted and when I was told I had to do something, well, I went and did what I wanted." Will looked at his father. "And I know none of you were pleased with my stunt at the Christmas Ball."

Shaking his head, Bill turned away. He sighed heavily. "Can I ask what brought that on?"

"You wanted me to wear the complete noble attire and I wanted to wear what I felt like wearing so I just wore my trousers and boots and tunic and my old, comfortable coat. I thought being there was good enough. Elizabeth didn't mind. She never saw me in all the noble clothing anyway. It wasn't me. She didn't mind that I wore normal clothes and, for the record, she disappeared with me after the first half hour. We went to the guest house and let the party resume," said Will.

"We looked in every room and you two weren't there," said Bill.

"I know, that's because when I saw someone coming we temporarily left," Will told him. "We didn't do anything, she just wanted to know why I was behaving the way I was. I told her what all of you were doing to me and I was rebelling. She never believed it was right for me to rebel like I was, but she wasn't going to tell me how to live my life. She understood why I was doing it. Just in the half hour I was around all of you she saw how you were treating me and telling me to sit up straight and stand tall. Even while we were dancing she noticed you were making motions to me to do something."

"Will, she did talk to me about our treatment of you for the record," Bill said, but not looking at him.

"Then why didn't you just take her advice?" Will asked.

"I was too stubborn and ashamed," admitted Bill.

"You were ashamed of me?" Will asked softly as he slowly turned his head to his father.

"William, don't tell me that shocks you," Bill said.

Will shrugged his shoulders. "Not really no." His fingers pulled at a loose thread on his robe until the thread pulled apart with a snap. "But it is different hearing it come from you. I knew you were ashamed of me, but I never heard it come out of your mouth before."

"I told you before we left on our little sailing adventure," reminded Bill.

"I don't really remember a lot before then. I know we were shouting at each other, but I cannot recall what we said," Will told him.

"Then there is no need to dwell upon it," said Bill. "Now, what is it you did during this rebellious stage of yours?"

"Well," Will said with a small release of breath that would have been a sigh and he dearly wanted to sigh. "You already know I drank every weekend to the point of passing out and one time being dragged back to the school hospital and having something shoved down my throat to make me sick for an entire day and I wake up only to see my uncle sitting there holding my hand—I still see his face and I will admit that him holding me after I woke and he knew I would live felt wonderful. I had almost forgotten what it was like to be held by someone. Other than drinking, we gambled quite often, which I'm sure you know about. I usually won. I taught them Liar's Dice. We pulled jokes on some of our professors which is why Dirk probably didn't show his face sometimes at school and—"

"Will, my brother has quite a few bones to pick with you. Gabe has your entire body worth of bones to pick with you. Dirk came home for a week. He packed everything and came home," said Bill.

"I know and I can tell you what I did, which was fun at the time," said Will.

"I already know what you did and you're damn lucky Richard and Archibald were childhood friends and continued their friendship to their elder years or you would have been expelled right there like the other three or four were," noted Bill with a stern look directly at his son.

"I know, I know. I had a feeling that was the reason I was still in school. Father, you were rebellious. Tell me you wouldn't have enjoyed it too," said Will.

Bill raised his hands and inhaled quickly. His hands moved about and lips formed words he tried to convey, but no sounds came through for a few minutes. "Will, I should be your father, but I'm going to wholeheartedly admit I would have loved to cover the main hall with whale oil and watch the professors fall on their old, pompous butts, but I have to be your father and tell you how rude and ridiculous and disrespectful that was."

"I can see you fighting not to smile," Will told him in a song manner.

The smile, full set of teeth and all came out as Bill shook his head. "Alex and Gabe wanted to do something like that when they were teenagers. Richard even talked about him and Edmund doing something. Everyone wants to do something to the professors but no one ever has the courage."

"Until we came along," said Will.

Bill coughed and lightly smacked Will across the face and pointed a firm finger at him. "But, William, that caused a lot of people shame and embarrassment toward this family. Dirk had to leave because of you. Every time someone would talk to him it was something to do with your attitude problem. They were asking him to tell you to knock it off. He had promised death threats in your honor if he didn't tell you to stop it. He left because he couldn't take it. We kept Dirk here for a week to calm him down. Dirk wanted to get his own room, but he didn't because he was afraid someone would follow through on one of those death threats if you were alone. He stayed with you to keep you alive."

"I know. He told me and I owe him a lot. I never gave him credit for keeping my butt alive," admitted Will. "Anyway, um let's see, you already know that we had nights in the cottage with women, but I generally stayed away from those. I did sneak over to see Elizabeth quite often, but I never slept with her until her sixteenth birthday. I asked every time if she was ready, but she always said not yet. I don't think she was ready that night, but it just happened and we both liked it so I'm not taking it back. School you know I was picky about and went to class whenever I felt like it. After they were expelled I got a reputation that I know I can't get rid of and I'm just glad it was late spring when we did that.

"Christmas break I spent time in the darker parts of London, you know South London and the "taverns". Again, I did nothing but look and drink. I did an Alexander Seastone. When I went down there or did any acts of rebellion, I did keep my curls down and wore the complete opposite of what I would have normally, meaning fine, noble clothing and I used a different name. I went under the name Jean Sauvageau and faked a French accent. The women loved it and the men loved the money we brought in. We had gambling tournaments and drinking games. Everyone knows I snuck away at night and slept all day. That's what I did really.

"That January, I knew I hit the point of no return. After the stunt we pulled with the Navy ships, I knew my rebelling to get the point across had gone farther than I ever intended. I had officially hurt everyone I ever loved but two and even those two were kept away from me. The King of England let us go with no punishment at all. Tell me that was just wrong. I was expecting at least a week in the Tower and they were expecting to be exiled from England. I finally realized it all went too far when I went walking in the street about a week after that incident to get some chocolate. People didn't look at me and parents kept their children away from me. Everywhere I went, people muttered behind their backs when I passed by, spat in my footsteps, pushed me around, provoked me, when I went into shops someone always watched me, and I knew I had messed up to the point that I may as well live up to my reputation.

"I kept rebelling and stealing whatever I wanted. Nothing could keep me down. After they were expelled, I hung around school and did whatever I felt like. Mostly, I went riding through the countryside. I took my horse I bought up there and rode. It's funny though. I was passing by a farm and I noticed the elder farmers trying to wrangle him up to execute him. I still had a nasty honest streak as Jack says so I had to help them. They were incredibly impressed that I was able to tame the horse. They told me I could keep him for no charge as long as I got him off their land. Cian and I went everywhere together, and his name speaks all. Cian obviously means ancient and it is as though he has seen so much pain and suffering that he's gone mad. He and I are happiest riding through towns. Tell me honest, did they send you a letter saying I was gone for days at a time?"

Bill nodded. Color was slowly seeping from his face. "Each time we received word that you were missing, you cannot comprehend how frightened I was. I never knew where you were. For all I knew you were shanghaied or kidnapped or killed. You were and always will be my son. I may have been hopeless in helping you or given up on you, but it made me sick to my stomach to know that you were missing. There were times I didn't sleep at night because I didn't know where you were. Your mother was the same way. We may have been upset, but you were our child and being our child it deathly frightens a parent to know his child is missing."

"Sorry," said Will. "I just had to get away and riding through the countryside on old roads in the rain is the best thing I ever did for myself. There was a time when it was storming and sunny all at once. I rode to Scotland and was standing on one of the hills at a Loch. The feeling of hearing the thunder and feeling the rain yet seeing the sun on the loch was incredible. It was one of those moments when you have to shut your eyes and listen and just feel the spirits around you. Cian enjoyed it too. He felt calmer after that day.

"I'm sure you were surprised when I showed up for Easter break on a new horse three days after Dirk got home. I did see the relief in your eyes when you saw I was all right and I was awake that night when you sat beside me playing with my hair. Dirk and I weren't on speaking terms really, but he did tell me he was glad to see that I was all right. We were in the stables and I was brushing Cian when he said that. He also made note that my horse felt different from others and looked different. His black is unusually black and his eyes are wild like mine were. Everyone always told me if I was an animal I would either be a bird or a horse. He said the horse had my spirit and I was lucky to have a connection to something like that.

"I wasn't home much Easter break and when I did sneak out, it was mostly to see Elizabeth. By that point I knew her father hated it when we were together. I know he would have demanded we end our engagement, but she would have left with me if he did. I know after being told that we couldn't be together, Elizabeth would have snuck here in her tunic and breeches and we both would have gotten on Cian and left London. Weatherby knows I love Elizabeth and never did anything to harm her. I know he let us stay together because I treated her like nothing between us changed."

"Why did you never behave around Aidan differently?" wondered Bill.

"He's my baby brother," replied Will obviously. "I want to be a father. You know I long for the day I can hold my own son. Aidan is only four and I did a lot when he was a baby. You and Mum once told me that you two were unneeded in Aidan's upbringing because I did it all. Aidan and I connected. For being twelve years apart in age, we're so close together. When he's around me, I can't help but to be his biggest brother. I could never hurt him, and yet I did."

"Well, his little alcohol drinking was mostly our faults," admitted Bill. "We never told him to stay out of the cabinet and he's been asking lately. We took full blame on that."

"My rebelling gave me an entire new look on life. I don't want to be noble. I still don't. If anything happens to Grandfather or Alex it goes to me until Thomas is old enough. Grandfather is old and Alex is Alex. I can't be noble. I hate everything about being a noble. I would be much happier if I lived in a small cottage in the countryside in the middle of nowhere with my wife and horse and family and Orion. No one would tell me what to do and I could do what I wanted when I wanted. Being noble forces me into having to act like someone I'm not. I'm not noble. I have a wild and free spirit, and when all of you suddenly tried taking that away from me I snapped and then all of you go and keep doing it. You would think that after I started rebelling you would have talked to me about why I was doing it and not continue to try and change me. Not once did any of you ask me why I was doing this. Elizabeth was the only one who asked," Will told him.

"And why didn't you tell us to stop telling you what to do? You could have talked to us Will and you never did," Bill told him sternly.

"Do you think any of you would have listened to me try and tell you to stop telling me what to do when it is the duty of an adult to tell a child what to do?" wondered Will dully.

"You know I would have listened," Bill told him. "You and I used to be able to talk to each other about everything."

"I know, but after you started punishing me and screaming at me talking to you was the last thing I wanted," Will told him. He slightly sighed and lowered his head for a moment then turned and looked into his father's eyes. "I think what made me snap the most was you."

Bill scooted closer to his son and rubbed his arm. "Tell me."

"You yelled at me and punished me and yet you told me you were always there for me and would always listen. I tried talking to you once and you told me you wanted nothing to do with me. The next time I did something you went off and practically beat me. All right so you didn't beat me, but you did give me a black eye from slapping me and you bruised my arms from grabbing me. I didn't know what to do because you told me one thing and did another. I was confused and afraid. I didn't know how to talk to any of you anymore. I gave up and ruined myself," Will told him.

"Is that all you did?" wondered Bill.

"What do you mean is that all?" Will cried. "I gambled, I stole, I lied, I cheated, I snuck away, I rebelled against everything, I hurt everyone I know, you ask me if that's all I did?"

Covering his mouth in an attempt to hide it, Bill began laughing softly. There were a few laughs he tried to keep in his throat, but was quite unsuccessful. He simply let his head fall back and laughed.

Poor Will sat beside him with his mouth agape and in awe. Here he was with tears in his eyes because of what he did in the past year and his father was laughing. He ruined his life and practically ruined his family's life and his father was laughing.

"William, I paid women to get in their beds, I gambled, I stole, and I cheated. All you did was have a bad attitude and not attend school," laughed Bill with his eyes squeezed shut and his head against the wall yet. "You did nothing but have an attitude. Poor thing. I thought you did so much more worse than this. All you did was let your attitude get away with you. You really did nothing but get yourself all upset. It's not as bad as you think. The worst thing you did was untie a few knots on a few ships and pull out a few nails. In an hour it all was fixed."

"But, Papa, no one trusts me or wants to be with me. I messed up badly and I can't go back," said Will.

"You did nothing compared to me," Bill said through his laughter.

"Father, mental scars hurt worse," Will told him.

Hearing the words his son spoke come through his ears, the joy and amusement all but remained on Bill's face. The realization came to him. Now it was his turn to look at his son and see the hopelessness that was on him. Will's attitude was the problem and everyone knew it was his attitude. The attitude of a person made a person. No one would believe him when he said Will was back to normal, yet Will seemed so normal. He knew, however, the moment someone told him to do something, he would immediately rebel against it. Will meant that he couldn't go back because his own mind would not allow him to go back.

Will did mess up worse than him. Everyone knew his son to be rebellious and to keep an eye out for him. There was no going back. His reputation was ruined, but people did change. With help, Will could go back to close to who he was. School was not quite an option since they didn't want him. It was either the belt or the lash. Perhaps Will could change enough to be allowed to finish his schooling. He was a smart boy and he had nothing to do but sit in bed and recover anyway. Perhaps he could make up his work that he never did to finish up his final year. Had he stayed in school he could have graduated that ending of winter term a year and a half early. There was a possibility that, with a lot of letters from Will, he could go back to school.

First of all he knew Will had to get himself back with his family. Aidan would be simple since he never did anything to him. Aidan was so small and innocent in the matter that Will would just have to be aware that when Aidan was around he was being the four year old's role model and it was he who had to teach him from right and wrong.

Dirk's relationship would again, be simpler than others. The cousins were practically twins. As long as Will kept himself in good manner then Dirk would slowly come back to him. What the cousins needed was a good, long talk together and a good apology from Will. Dirk understood a lot of things and he did admit that he wished his cousin would come back and be Will again.

He had yet to ask if his son knew about the situation with Lily and Andrew. Long ago he realized the two of them were becoming separated from each other. They loved to lay out under the stars with their biggest brother. Will loved it more than all of them. He was a natural storyteller and Bill knew that they each had their specific spot on the blanket. Will and Andrew were across from each other. Aidan was on his right and Lily was on his left. He had seen them in the library window all the time and Andrew loved telling him the story Will told them. The best part was firefly catching. Andrew used to love to catch fireflies.

Christmas break ruined Andrew's relationship. He had to hold Andrew all night and hush him. All he wanted was for Will to read him out of his favorite book which was Will's second favorite book. Captain Johnson's A General History of the Pyrates. Will didn't have to read the book to him he knew all the pirates and there were maps the two of them drew out. He was teaching Andrew to read them and make his own courses. Little Andrew just wanted a story, but that was the problem. He wanted something from Will and because he wanted it, Will's mind took it differently. Bill knew Will thought it was another demand of him. What else would he think? He was away at school so he didn't know any better. Andrew would be tough to get a relationship with again since he knew it would take a while to get the two of them in the same room together.

Brother and Sister, well they would have to fix themselves. He wasn't exactly sure what caused the two of them to go astray. Most likely it was Will's reputation going through to her school too and she was also suffering from his wrongdoings. She had come to him and Charlotte and asked what she should to about Will and he did tell her just to let him be alone. Well, he knew he had a hand in ruining their relationship so he knew he had to help them get it back together. Besides, Lily had some boy she liked and being twelve years old that was frightening. Will was going to have to be the one to get past not him, although he trusted Will with his daughter's boyfriend choosing since Will knew the men around his age.

Little Felicity and Thomas were simple. All Will had to do was play with them. They were too young to understand anyway and it was simply best just to not mention to the two of them Will's wrongdoings. Convincing the parents to let Will near them was going to be a different matter.

As of right now, Colleen wanted nothing of Will near them. She lost all trust of her children with him and he wasn't going to blame her. Ever since she met Will she was very fond of him and thought of him as a second son. He was everything she wanted Thomas to be, at least until he got his attitude problem.

Of course, nothing would be done until a certain Alexander Seastone trusted Will again. That was going to be one of the more difficult recoveries that Will was going to have to make. He had no suggestions to Will how to restart that relationship other than simply going to him one day and apologizing for everything and talking. Alexander was broken the most by Will's doings. The two of them were always oddly close and Will fought to get into that medical course. He spent hours with his uncle studying and Alexander was ecstatic when he got the letter. Sailing together was what they needed, but Alexander would know not to get Will sailing for a few months since he was so broken like he was. Before, Will looked forward to the weekends his uncle would come up to Eton. He always showed his brother that when he received letters from his Little One. Will was a second son to Alexander and someone each of them could talk to. Yes, the best thing for the two of them would be to simply talk to each other.

Before Will was able to get to his uncle he would probably have to talk to Christian. Christian knew everything about Alexander and it was best to learn how his uncle was during the past year. Bill knew what happened to Alexander and how his personality shifted. Alexander learned to trust less people after he couldn't even trust his own family. There were things he didn't tell him and only to Christian. Actually, he felt he should talk to Christian as well.

The one person that was probably going to be one of the easiest remarkably was Richard. He knew Richard had a past very similar to his son's except Richard had no choice but to grow up over night. It was Richard who managed to keep Will's butt out of the severe punishments he should have had. His health had rapidly decreased in the past months, most likely another reason Alexander was holding a grudge with Will. His Little One couldn't imagine the stack of letters received from Eton and addressed to Richard. Last he looked, the stack went to his knees nearly and he knew Richard sent at least twice that amount. It seemed every other weekend Richard traveled to Eton to speak with Archibald about Will.

He wondered how Will was going to take the news that he was often a subject of matter in Parliament. Somewhere inside him, he had a feeling Will knew. He had seen the nights Richard came home exhausted and kept his distance from Will. He fought to keep Will in London and out of the Tower. Richard kept the Seastone name intact and Bill even admitted to himself he should have attended more sessions. There was a day he was there yelling just as loud trying to defend his son. Will knew his side of the story, but he had no idea what everyone else was doing around him. One of the first things Will had to do when he was well enough to get around was to apologize to all the Lords of Parliament. A smidge of humility would do his son good.

Charlotte wouldn't be a difficult fix. She was his mother and she just needed to see that her son was going to be all right. Gabe would be fine once he saw Dirk and Will were all right again.

Bill knew the hardest apology and relationship correction was not anyone in the family. Nope. The most difficult apology was going to the eldest of the Beckett brothers. Harry and Theo would be a simple apology for being an idiot and Theo admitted that Will's ideas of rebellion weren't half bad. There was no change between Theo and Will. Harry deserved an apology and perhaps a little trust exam. Cutler on the other hand, that was going to take time.

He knew how close the two of them were. They spent a little too much time together at times. Every day when Will was younger and he had to work, he took his son along and let him play with Cutler while he did his work. He knew Will learned everything about sailing and navigation and the bone structure of a ship from that man. Because Cutler loved him and learned from him, he changed and now had his own family and it was all thanks to Will. Everyone at Navy Headquarters used to love Will. They would call him in to check the numbers or have him verify courses. He was different. He was someone a person wanted to become friends with. Gaining the trust of the officials could take months to a year. Will did something absolutely horrible. Abusing his privilege and trust from everyone to take that key and rebel cost him too many good friendships by both officials and family.

Since that January day, he only saw Cutler if it was at work and even then they hardly spoke to each other. Every time the word _will_ was mentioned in any context, his eyes would lower and become pained. The brokenness that Will caused him was killing him inside. No one really knew if he existed anymore. Seeing Beck in the Seastone Manor was once on a daily basis and it had been months since he was last there. He had no idea how to get their relationship back. The two of them used to have the grandest, most wonderful relationship. When a father was jealous of the man his son spoke so highly of, there was a problem. The more time Will spent with Beck the more he was jealous. There was a time Charlotte poured ice down his tunic and told him to relax over the subject.

The only suggestion he could give Will was to simply talk to Harry and Theo first then see what they said about getting Will back with Cutler. They would know how to get the two of them back. They were his brother's after all. That relationship he knew was going to take months.

Then again, there was a literal noble problem Will had to solve. Unknown to Will, King George had written him a letter wondering if he wanted to have a talk with him. The two of them were long time friends. Will was only seven years younger than him and they believed in the same ideals. Both of them wanted what was best for the people. George wanted to spend time with him for quite a while and wanted to know if Will would have liked to attended the celebration honoring the soon to be birth of his first child. He knew it hurt both his son and the King that the two of them were forced apart by something silly. Probably the first thing Will had to do was apologize to King George then everyone else in Parliament. He wanted to see his son get his best friend back. It would make him very happy to see that.

Looking at Will and watching the tears fall from his son's eyes, he knew his son was also realizing how difficult this was going to be. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gently pulled him into his chest. Will turned his head into his chest and softly sobbed.

"Little One, don't cry. Crying hurts when you have broken ribs," he softly told him.

"But I want to cry. That's all I want to do right now. That's the only thing I know right now," Will told him.

Bill bunched his sleeve over his hand and wiped away the tears. He shook his head seeing that Will had been letting tears fall on his cheeks for quite a while. Beside him, he damped one of the cloths in the pitcher of drinking water to wring out the dripping water and gently dab his son's tears soaked face.

"There now, we'll make it better. This is going to be difficult for you to hear I know, but it is what you must do. To start getting things back to normal, you have to talk to everyone and apologize. You need to talk to everyone you feel you hurt. A simple apology is sometimes what it takes. Other times it will require more than that. Let everyone see that you want things to be normal again. I'll tell them what happened and then they can tell you some things. You need to understand what others did for you and what happened. Get both sides of the story to understand the tale," said Bill.

Will nodded. He shut his eyes. "I wish everything would go back to the way it was."

"Me too," agreed Bill. "But if we could wish away everything bad that ever happened then we wouldn't learn. And sometimes, we all need a reminder that we are only human."

Will leaned into his father again. They were back to normal like nothing had ever happened. Ironically, he broke literally too just to get his relationship back with his father. He owed his father more than he ever could provide in a single lifetime.

Bill Turner caressed his son's curls and rubbed his back comfortingly. Seeing the candles flickering on the desk and not remembering when he lit them, he knew it was late at night. Just in that small amount of time he was holding Will, he knew his son had fallen asleep in his arms. This child was his angel. He loved Will more than anything in the world.

After getting Will tucked in bed and comfortable, he pressed his lips against Will's forehead one last time and blew out one of the candles so only one was lit. With a pat on Orion's sleeping head, he quietly left his room. He made himself a promise not to dwell on his son's problems just yet.

Quietly, he slipped out of his normal day clothes and into his sleeping silks. As slowly and stealthily as he could, he lifted the blankets on his side of the bed, trying not to wake his sleeping wife. He got himself settled in bed and the blankets wrapped around him and laid his head down only to see Charlotte's eyes looking at him.

"Aidan was sick again," she softly told him.

"It was your brother's doing," Bill told her.

"I know," said Charlotte.

"Come here Lottie," Bill whispered scooting his arm under her body.

Charlotte rolled closer to her husband and laid her head against his breast and her palm over his heart. She interlocked her fingers with his once he brought his hand up.

"I know what changed Will."

She looked at him with wonder. "What? Is it going to be all right?"

"Give it time and I'll tell all of you tomorrow," said Bill.

"I knew you would bring him back. If it was going to be anyone I knew it would be you," Charlotte said as she contently shut her eyes.

Bill let his eyes fall shut too.

For the first time in quite while, months really, the parents of one Will Turner finally found that night of sleep was particularly comfortable.

* * *

**A note from TurtleHeart: well, there you go. now you know what made Will change, but you need to get all the stories to understand the tale. happy readings!**


	5. So Ready, So Afraid

Like he told his wife he would the previous night, Bill gathered up everyone except for Aidan who was keeping Will entertained, and brought them all into the library. For some reason, they always had their big and important discussions in the library. It was supposed to be a room of content and peace, but they always seemed to make it into a room of dread. He looked them all over. The children were piled on the sofa and Charlotte on the right side and Colleen on the left. Alexander was sitting on the arm of the sofa. Richard sat in the chair with his morning cup of tea. Gabriel was sitting in the opposite chair beside the sofa. Dirk was standing beside his father. They were all looking at him.

"Sixteen. What comes to mind when I say the word sixteen?" wondered Bill.

"Teenage boys," replied Gabriel. "Stupid teenage boys."

"Besides that," Bill said. "And I know you are referring to me."

"Will's age," replied Lily obviously.

Again, Bill shook his head. He looked at them as they returned to him with looks of adult. "Is sixteen a child or an adult?"

"An adult. William, you of all people know that. Age sixteen is when a man reaches adulthood," replied Richard.

"Says who?" wondered Bill.

"It's how it's always been," replied Richard.

"And what if someone isn't ready to become an adult and his family makes him suddenly grow up overnight and he finds the only means of expressing his voice is to express it through actions. Eventually these actions grow to a reputation that he wants to break and a state of mind that he cannot control because it is habit, and a family that wants to get rid of his attitude when they were the ones who brought his attitude to life," explained Bill. He set his hands behind his back and walked the distance from chair to chair. "All of you, tell me what you did after his sixteenth birthday. What did you see him as August twenty third? An adult. Am I wrong? You began treating him as an adult and expected him to become an adult. Well, you were asking him to grow up overnight."

"Bloody hell," whispered Gabriel, his head falling into his hand supported by his knees. He shook his head in the palm of his hands. "Will is still a child and we suddenly decided it was time for him to grow up."

"And Will being Will decided he was going to go against it and acquire the name Blackbird," added Bill.

"I don't know how I didn't see this one from the past. He did everything you did. The moment you were told to grow up and take on a little responsibility you too rebelled," said Gabriel. He let out a frustrated cry and stood. "I'm so blindly stupid. I should have seen this. We should have seen this."

"I am his father. He was doing wrong and I was trying to correct it like any good father would do to his son. I didn't see myself in Will until I sat beside him and looked at him. I recognized the darkness in his eyes that I once had in mine," said Bill.

"All right, since you say it was our fault then what did I do?" asked Dirk.

Having the feeling he was going to eventually have to explain it to every person eventually anyway, Bill sighed and began the tales. "You, Dirk, did nothing but laugh at him when we scolded him. You thought it was funny that he was always getting into trouble. As I recall, you were also one to tell Will to grow up because we were. At school, you did nothing but avoid him like he was some disease. Behind his back, you talked about him to all your friends, giving every detail if not stretching the story to make it more entertaining. Don't try to deny it. We have lots and lots and lots of letter from your behavior as well as Will's behavior. You provoked him and got him upset all the time. You didn't stick up for him like he always does for you.

"Gabe, well, you were Gabe. You told him to grow up and assume responsibility as well. Just thought I would mention that you were also the one to keep Will away from Dirk, further tearing the cousins apart. You really didn't do much to Will, but it's because you didn't do anything that he held a grudge for you.

"Colleen, you kept the children away from him and told him to accept responsibility. As I recall, you tried to tell Will how fortunate he was to be sixteen and in a noble house not in the streets of London begging for food. You tried to use guilt to get him to assume responsibility. Clearly, he doesn't understand because he's never been down there. He wouldn't understand what you mean and only got irritated when you were blaming him for not opening his eyes and seeing the world. It's because he's noble that he doesn't understand.

"Lily, Andrew, a word with you two. You two were the main reasons he got moody. Once he started getting into all that trouble, you two thought it was funny to get him in trouble and so you did everything you could think of for us to scream at him. You blamed him for everything you two did. We were yelling at him, not you and you took a liking to it. He avoided you two because he didn't want to be yelled at for anymore trouble that the two of you got him into. You caused your own problems.

"Lottie, well, we're his parents. All we did was yell at him and not listen to him. When I asked him why he didn't go to us and explain, he reminded me that after being screamed at no one wants to go to his parents and try and talk to them.

"Alex, I don't know what went wrong with you two really. I think it was just because you two were close and understood each other one second then he felt you suddenly turned on him by telling him to accept responsibility and grow up. He thought you of all people would understand what it was like to be told one thing when your heart wanted to do another. Since you betrayed him he felt he should betray you.

"Richard, you—"

"Hurt him the most by being the first to tell him to grow up overnight when I should have understood that growing up overnight is not the simplest action to do whether you have that choice or not," replied Richard. "I of all people should have let him grow up naturally. I was beginning to see myself in him and I didn't want him to rebel and leave like I did. He was already assuming responsibility. He's engaged to be married and practically raised his baby brother. I just wanted him to get past all thoughts of rebelling before he had the chance to go out and rebel."

"It was no one person, it was all of us," said Alexander to his father. "It was me most of all.

"Alex, it was all of us," Bill said, using his words against him.

"Now what?" wondered Dirk quietly.

"Will is Will again. We simply just have to keep him Will," said Bill.

"Just because I know what happened doesn't mean I'm going to trust him suddenly now. He needs to get that trust back that we lost," Alexander said.

"I know," said Bill, recalling his son's fright. "He's afraid nothing will be the same between any of you again. He messed up, ruined his life, and hurt a lot of people. I'm not asking you to suddenly trust him or want to be with him, but I am asking you to try to talk to him and listen when he wants to say something. He knows about the two options we left him."

"They're out," Richard suddenly said. "I'm not forcing him to do either. We ruined him already. I'm not losing him because we forced him to do something else. I have the feeling if we push a matter like that with too much force, he'll leave with Elizabeth and possibly Aidan and never look back."

Nodding head all around the room agreed with that thought. It was Will. Will already decided it was all right for him to get on a horse and leave whenever he wanted. What was there to say he wouldn't take his fiancée and leave forever to start his own family? He was sixteen after all and an adult. He was an abnormally smart sixteen year old who knew the trades of the world.

"Um, I hope you don't mind Richard," Edwin said as he entered the library. He motioned to the door. "A trio of brothers we know of barged through the door and are making their way upstairs."

"Which also leads me to the relationship that hurt Will and me the most," added Bill.

* * *

Little Aidan's laughter rang as he and his biggest brother were playing with his toy ships and small pirate figurines on the bed. Will was always the best storyteller and thought up the best battles. He knew all the great pirate battles so they could always play them. Today was just playtime though. There were not battles; they were just playing like two brothers.

Will reached forward and grabbed Aidan's arm to pull him close to his body. "Do you feel better from yesterday?"

"Mm hm," whispered Aidan. "I no drink again."

"Please don't," Will asked sincerely.

"You be bad anymore?" Aidan asked.

"No, I told Papa what happened to me and we're going to try to make it better," said Will.

"What happened?" asked Aidan.

"I ruined a lot of people's lives including my own. I rebelled against everything. I thought no one cared because they wanted me to do what they wanted. I want to be my own person and not have to live how they want me to live. I have a free soul Aidan and no one can bring me down. I have to apologize to a lot of people and get their trust back. Somehow," explained Will. He shifted his brother in his arms so they could look at each other. "What do you say to me being in the Navy?"

Aidan looked at him ridiculously, wrinkled forehead, narrow eyes, and head tilted to the side. "They let pirates be in Navy?"

Will laughed aloud then shut up immediately as his face went into a painful expression that he tried hiding.

"Broken ribs?" wondered Aidan, nodding his head.

"Yeah," replied Will. "Don't ever break your ribs. You can't laugh or lay on your stomach or sigh or breathe too deeply or have any pressure against yourself. Don't break any bones for that matter. And to answer your question, I am not a pirate. Jack isn't really a pirate anymore. Papa was once, but he gave it up to have a family so he could have us. Me, rather, but you came along. What do you think?"

"No," Aidan said, curling against his brother. "Go away too long. Sailing too far away from me. No."

"You don't have to sail. I can do something else," Will said.

"How about be the accountant or chart the courses?"

Despite the pain he was in from Aidan causing him to laugh, Will's heart was pounding in his chest. He knew that voice from somewhere a long time ago. It was months ago since he last heard that voice. If it was him then he wondered if the oldest of all of them was there. He wasn't ready to face him just yet. Why would he be there anyway?

Aidan answered his question for him. "Will, the brothers are here."

"Which ones?" Will asked softly.

"All of them," replied Aidan.

"As in all three of them?" Will stuttered.

Aidan looked up from his brother's arms. "Yep."

Will squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sigh. "Ow."

"Aidan, how about you go play somewhere else. We have some things to talk to Will about."

"Okay," replied Aidan, pushing from his brother's body.

Will bit his tongue to keep the scream in his throat. If Aidan continued to push off him like that and make him feel like his ribs were being broken again and again, he was going to have strong words with his father about that. But, that thought was suddenly gone from his mind. Now that Aidan was gone from the room, he was alone with the three Beckett brothers and all three of them were there so the eldest was in there too.

Slowly, he raised his eyes and then his head. He attempted to smile. The younger two, Harrison and Theodore, were standing in the room looking at him with relief. He didn't have time to look for the third, for they immediately rushed to his side and Theodore was the one who pulled Will in first since he got their first.

"Will, you—"

"Don't say anything about what happened all right? I'm tired of hearing it. I know I was stupid. I don't know what I was thinking. I know I should be dead. If I wanted to kill myself I know I should have done it another way. I know," Will immediately told him.

"Will, I'm just glad you're alive and moving," said Theodore.

"We've known too many men who have not survived a fall like that," added Harrison, wrapping arm around him.

Will shut his eyes and smiled. Two people he hurt seemed to suddenly not care that he hurt them. They were happy to see him alive and somewhat all right. He felt himself slumping into their arms. His body curled tightly against Theodore who pulled him closer, but not to close so he didn't hurt his ribs.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's all right Will," said Theodore.

"I'm not apologizing to you two," Will said, his eyes looking straight ahead of him.

Leaning against the doorway, Cutler simply was watching him. His eyes weren't relieved or happy or anything really. He was nothing. He just stood there watching. His façade was calm and emotionless, but there was disappointment written all over him. He didn't look even the least bit relieved Will was alive. With a sigh and shaking his head, he turned his back on Will and left from his sight.

Will turned away. He knew it was going to be difficult to get back this relationship, but he thought there would at least be some sort of relief on his face.

"Don't worry about him Will. He was a mess when we found out what happened to you," said Harrison.

"It was his idea to come in and barge on you when we figured out you were awake," added Theodore.

"He doesn't seem to care about me," whispered Will. "Did I mess up that bad?"

"He cares about you so much Will. You know our father. Even with their improved relationship, he doesn't speak very highly of you anymore. He told Beck to keep away from you because you are not proper and right," said Theodore.

"Then what are you two still doing in here?" Will asked.

Harrison gave Theodore a light tap on the arm then motioned to the door. They agreed before they walked over that if Will even showed some sort of moodiness, they would simply leave him alone to let him get it out of his system. Going over there was already an idea that was though out and considered carefully.

"We're going to go talk to your father all right?" Harrison said, rubbing his arm.

"And hunt Beck down before he does something stupid again," added Theodore.

"Papa and I figured out what happened. It's probably best that you talk to him," agreed Will, surprising them both at his calm and unexpected reaction.

"We'll be back Will," said Harrison.

Will nodded his head. He gave them a weak smile as they left with a wave. Slumping against his pillows, he thought that went better than he was expecting. Two out of the three were glad to see him alive and well. That was a good start. His father and two brothers' relationships were fixed. He was still very far from mending his future and recovering what happened.

Of course, he had to physically recover before he could do much more. If anyone wanted to be with him they had to go to him, which was not good on his part since it was agreed that he had to make the first move to mend the wounds. His leg was broken and he could move only his toes. The ribs were mending. His arm was healing. His head was healing. Healing, not healed.

Bored again, but this time also disappointed, he pulled at his curls at watched them bounce. What he would give for a bath right now. He was never one to truly care much about bathing, but he was covered with medicines and dead skin. He _needed_ a bath. He whistled and Orion came trotting in from the other room.

The dog hopped on the bed and immediately set his head in Will's lap, letting out a low whine.

"Orion, go find someone who can walk and get him or her in here. I want a bath," Will said while itching behind his ears.

Happily, the dog ran out of the room.

Will itched his head lightly. Yes the stitches were pulled out, but it still itched. His leg was the most itchy of them all. During the night he would lay there and grab the blanket not to itch himself all over. He had a feeling he would do more harm than good trying to itch with one hand and broken body. At least he was hoping a warm bath was going to settle the itch.

Thinking of his warm bath, he shut his eyes and halfway sighed. Vanilla soap. His head getting massaged while removing the dirt. His body gently being scrubbed. He missed it. The last time he remembered bathing wasn't truly bathing. He was riding through a rainstorm with Cian. One of the first things he wanted to do to celebrate his recovery was jump on the back of Cian ride through the countryside. Perhaps Cian would allow Elizabeth to ride with him. They were both small bodies and most likely only equaled one muscular human.

Orion barked as his tail wagged.

"Who did you get?" Will asked happily.

The Golden Retriever turned his head. Seeing she was not there, he barked low and silently.

Unexpectedly, Elizabeth Swann appeared in Will's bedroom doorway.

Will's eyes widened and mouth went agape. He felt his heart pounding blood and adrenaline through him. This was the love of his life and he thought he was never going to see her again. "I love you," he found himself saying.

"I'm pregnant."

"What did you say?" Will asked. She spoke so softly he barely heard her.

Elizabeth turned her eyes and moved her face to his window. The tears that she fought to keep in her eyes fell in great heavy drops down her cheeks. For three months she had not said those words to another, or herself. She did not speak them loudly, for she still hoped it was not true. She was only sixteen years old. They knew when they saw each other at night there was a possibility of this happening, but she never thought it would happen.

They slept with each as many times as less than the fingers on one hand, excluding the thumb. It was only twice. This didn't happen. It was only twice. Being with child the second time didn't happen to nobles; it only happened to those who dwelled on the street. She had to finish school and then marry him and then they could have a child. The two of them talked of having a child after school. They were planning on a child after school was out. This couldn't have happened to her.

She knew it was happening to her though. Her dresses were already not being tightened as tight as they usually were. Each day she found herself more exhausted than she should have been. Her moods shifted constantly and she was in a mess of tears when she looked at her father. Each and every morning it seemed she found her head in a bucket kept at her bedside. It wasn't just around her belly that her dresses were tightening; her chest was growing in size while milk was being created.

Looking at Will hopelessly, she did something she thought she could never do again. She smiled.

Will was looking up at her with a glowing smile on his face. He was glowing brightly. His lips were parted revealing his perfectly white teeth. The brown eyes almost looked gold. He was literally glowing.

She last saw him lying under blankets and pillows on supporting his broken bones. He was pale and as lively as a teenager on his deathbed. When she took his hand between both of hers he did not move, nor seem to sense that she was right there sobbing at his bedside.

"Come here," he whispered.

Elizabeth slowly moved forward. She backed away from him when he reached out his hand.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, suddenly taken aback by her behavior.

"I don't want you to touch it," she said.

"Come here," Will said again. "I need to know. I have to know. Do you trust me?"

"Mm hm," said Elizabeth, slowly stepping forward.

Slowly, Will reached his hand out again. She appeared no different than her normal weight, but that may have been since her dress was not tightly against her body like normal. Taking a quick glance over all of her, he saw his small request was granted; her chest was larger. His hand pressed against her belly and his palm cupped skin and something harder than skin. The small, round object cupped in his palm and his smile further widened.

He grabbed her arm, forcing her to sit beside him. Once she sat, his arm wrapped around her and hand gently cupped her belly again. "Baby," he whispered, smiling.

"I'm sixteen Will," reminded Elizabeth.

"I'm gonna be a father," Will said. He suddenly moved his head to kiss her full on the mouth in joy.

She pushed on his chest to push him away.

The pressure against his ribs caused him to scream in pain and curl his arm around his chest. His knee came upward, trying to protect himself further from all hands. "Stop touching my chest!" he screamed. "Everyone needs to just stop with touching! I'm not blaming you personally Elizabeth, but everyone has seemed to push on my ribs. Half my ribs are broken and they're not going to heal if people keep pushing on them. Ow!"

"The last time I saw you, you were barely alive and just laying here looking like you were dead," said Elizabeth.

"I'm awake now. I'm all right. You and I are going to be parents," Will told her.

"And you're the only one who knows," Elizabeth said, burrowing her legs under his blanket and leaning gently against him. She rested her head on his shoulder and grabbed his hand. "What are we going to do Will? I don't know what to do. I'm pregnant and I'm sixteen years old."

"For one, you and I are considered adults now that we are sixteen. Everyone knows we were going to get married since we met anyway. Our parents had us privately betrothed when we were children. This family is known for being abnormal so you and I to have a child at sixteen is nothing out of the oddity. Alex and I aren't on the best terms, but I know he won't let what I've done hurt this. We'll be all right. When I get up we'll get married and have the small wedding like we wanted," said Will. "All you have to do is create the child and give birth and feed our child. I'll do the rest. I'll change him and rock him and hold him and care for him and burp him and change his clothes for him and bathe him and I'll get up in the night to care for him and I'll do anything a father can do. And I'll take care of you too."

"I know you will," said Elizabeth. She gently pressed her lips on his. "I'm so afraid. How am I going to tell everyone?"

"We have to tell someone," Will said.

"Who?" wondered Elizabeth. "You don't exactly have a good relationship with anyone right now and my father is going to kill you."

"We'll tell my father. We've spent a lot of time talking and explaining a few things. He and I are normal again. I trust him to help us get through this," said Will.

"Um, Father doesn't know I'm here and neither does anyone else," admitted Elizabeth playing with her hair around her finger. "I told him I was staying with a friend of mine for a few days out of town. He told me he wanted me to get out and to get my mind off of you anyway. Technically we're not exactly in London and I do have my mind off of you because here you are. I snuck in through the broken window by the tower and sort of walked down the hall to get here. I guess Orion wanted me to follow him."

"I told him to get someone because I need a bath," said Will. "Just didn't think he would come back with you. I'm not complaining though. I've missed you a lot."

"Missed you too," said Elizabeth.

They were happy together. Anyone could see it. Despite that Elizabeth was three months pregnant and sixteen years old and Will was still quite broken and had a long recovery ahead of him, they felt their lives were going to be all right again. All worries of the two of them possibly being torn away from each other because of recent events was gone. No one would take her because she was with Will's child and so they would be forced together like they should have been.

"I need to know," said Will. "How many times have you cried over this?"

"Every morning when I'm sick and an hour later when I'm being dressed. My maids are suspecting something because my dresses are tighter than they should be. They've already made comments that I've gained weight," said Elizabeth.

"You're so little that it's obvious you're pregnant," said Will.

Elizabeth pushed off of him again. "Is it that obvious?"

Among his severe cursing Will breathed deep and glared at her. "The ribs Elizabeth. Broken ribs. I hope the baby kicks you and breaks a few of your ribs."

"They can do that?" asked Elizabeth, color suddenly draining from her face.

"Apparently I did and so did Aidan," replied Will.

Elizabeth's arms wrapped around her chest. "This sound so horrible. How long does being sick every morning last."

"As long as your body lets it," replied Will.

Slumping into his arms again, Elizabeth sighed and groaned. "I hate this. I'm crying again."

Will looked at her oddly. "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know," replied Elizabeth.

Rolling his eyes, Will wrapped an arm around her. "You're just emotional because you are pregnant. Mum was the same way with Aidan. My father told her it was just best to get the crying out to make room for more tears eventually."

He hushed her and rocked her. Something was wrong with him and he knew it. His sixteen year old fiancée was pregnant and he did nothing but smile about it. There was no worry or fear in his eyes or heart. If it was anyone else both of them should have been panicking, but not him. He was so ready to be a father, but watching Elizabeth cry, he was realizing he was so afraid.

A child was a blessing and a curse. Children were a gift from the heavens since some women did not have their own children and wanted to be mothers. They were also a curse because of how lives were changed. This baby was going to be a good thing for him. He needed something to keep him from rebelling against the world like he was doing and tame him. This baby was going to tame him and he knew it.

He messed up again and this time it was Elizabeth who truly had to pay the price. She was not going to finish her formal schooling and would have to reside to tutors teaching her, while he was already expelled so there was no worry there. Because she was with child, her visits into town were limited. He feared what the world's opinion of them would do on her. He was figuring the world to brush it off on him and simply pass it by as nothing since he had done everything else a person could to do rebel. However, knowing the world and the world's love of noble gossiping, this was most likely going to be considered as another act of rebelling on his part.

"Is everything all right Son?"

"Oh my god you're father's coming," Elizabeth said.

Will nodded confidently at her. As he saw a figure in the doorway, he turned his head upward.

"Oh, Elizabeth, I didn't know you were here," noted Bill, a bit shocked to see her. He looked between her frightened face and Will's lips trying to make out words.

Something he noticed was her legs curling tightly against her and she was cocooning herself into Will's body and he was holding her close as if protecting her. There was a look of fear in her eyes. His eyes were fearful, yet glowing. They wanted to say something, but didn't know how and they were behaving awkwardly now that he was in the room. He didn't mean to but, he noticed her chest size increased and the dress was not fitting her properly.

With a sigh, he grabbed the door and shut it, his eyes never leaving theirs. He stepped forward and sat on the side of the bed. "How many months are you?"

"You know? We didn't even tell you?" Elizabeth said.

"It's the look in your eyes, your weight increase, and Will keeping you protectively close to him," said Bill.

"Three," replied Will.

Bill shook his head shut his eyes. He pressed his palms to his face and chuckled. Removing his palms they saw a smirk widen across his face. They were figuring it was going to be disappointment and Will was expecting a lecture of some sort not a smirk.

"Here we were just having agreed to not force you into anything and now you have no choice but to assume responsibility overnight," he noted.

"We didn't plan this," began Will.

"I thought you said you only slept with her a handful of times," Bill told him, his eyes furious and voice harsh.

"Twice," replied Elizabeth. "The night of my sixteenth birthday and a month after. It was that night in April. We only did it twice and both times sort of happened."

"I didn't mean for this to happen. It's not an act of rebellion. I would never use her for my own uses; you know this," Will said.

"I know," said Bill, calming. He turned to Elizabeth. "Stand up. I need to see for myself."

Sobbing and knowing she had no choice, Elizabeth stood profile to him. She reached around in back and pulled on the loose strings, tightening the cloth to her stomach where a small bump was visible.

"Okay," replied Bill, taking her hand. He sat her in his lap and kept a protective arm around her. "How are you feeling? Physically, how are you?"

"Tired. Sick, Hungry," replied Elizabeth.

"Normal," said Bill. "Swift mood changes?" Elizabeth nodded. "I would assume you've discovered your mornings are not very greeting." Again, Elizabeth nodded her head. "Your father doesn't know."

"Nor does he know I'm here. He thinks I'm with a friend," replied Elizabeth quietly.

"Probably best that he doesn't know yet," admitted Bill. "Does anyone else know?"

"Orion," replied Will, motioning to the dog who was keeping close to Elizabeth.

"I hope you like Orion," Bill told Elizabeth. "I hope you like all the dogs. When Lottie was pregnant she always had a dog near her and that dog is going be Orion. These dogs know things and Orion is already protective over Will. Wherever you two go he will follow and I'm telling Alex."

"Not yet!" Will cried pleadingly.

"Will, we cannot keep this a secret," Bill said, haste in his voice. "She's barely sixteen. Alex and Lottie need to start helping her. She's got to get the right foods in her and Will, look at her; you two aren't going to be able to hide this much longer. Trust me; Alex is not going to shun you away because of this. He's going to help you. Even if he's mad at you more than ever, he's not going to let your baby die because of some silly grudge. Alex needs to know."

"Just a couple more days for us to think about how to tell everyone," requested Will.

"Please," Elizabeth pleaded.

"If you two have not told anyone in five days from now, I am telling Alex," said Bill. He didn't like the situation but he knew that there was nothing he could do. "I also had a change of mind. Your father will be informed soon Elizabeth. Don't open your mouth to try to protest. You are staying here with Will. You are carrying his child and therefore a member of this family officially. Your home is now here. You are Lady Seastone-Turner."

Once again, Elizabeth broke into sobs. She fell against Will.

Will flinched and breathed through his teeth at the pressure against his ribs. He shut his eyes and leaned back. Color was draining from his face. His breathing increased as he blinked heavily.

Slowly, Bill sat beside Will on his right. "Come here. It's going to be all right. It's gonna be all right."

Realization dawning, Will leaned into his chest, bringing Elizabeth with him. Bill sat beside them and rocked the two teenagers. He was not expecting this. He was not expecting this to be the choice Will chose. It was going to be the Royal Navy while Elizabeth finished up her schooling. First of all, it was supposed to be a choice and not something that was forced upon. However, it was a choice he made and unfortunately, Elizabeth made that choice too.

They were too young to have a child. All those time Will spoke of wanting to be a father as soon as possible meant as soon as they were done with school and married. He knew Will's plan. They were going to graduate, get married that summer in the garden, and have children. Everything with his future was going to happen after his childhood ended. Sixteen was not an adult and he knew it, however, Will was now an adult.

Will _and_ Elizabeth were adults. They didn't have a choice anymore.

"All right you two, tears aren't going to fix anything," Bill said, pushing them back. He set a hand on each of their faces to remove the tears gliding down them. "The past is in the past. Learn from it. Accept it. Let it go, but never forget it. It's not the end of the world."

"Feels like it," noted Elizabeth.

"That's because you are with child. You're going to feel like it's the end and wish for it. It's not as bad as you think," said Bill.

"I'm going to be fat!" Elizabeth softly cried.

Bill chuckled. "That's the least of your problems."

A small squeak erupted from the door. "Lizzy!" Aidan cried, running his little feet across the room and wrapping his arms around her. "Miss you."

"I missed you too Aidan," replied Elizabeth.

"Long time," noted Aidan, nodding his head.

Elizabeth looked at him with a smile.

Bill glanced at Will who glanced at him going pale. He nodded his head. Elizabeth was looking at Aidan differently. Her eyes were gentle. She poked his nose. Instincts of a mother were already coming into her.

"Can I have a bath?" Will asked, still wanting to remove the itch and sickness from him.

"Sure," replied Bill. "I've been thinking about asking you if you wanted one anyway. We need to get some of those wounds cleaned up. I'll get your bath ready."

"So, how have you been since I saw you a few months ago?" Elizabeth asked Aidan.

The four year old shrugged dramatically and sighed heavily. "Okay," he replied. "You?"

"Not so good. I've been sick a lot lately," admitted Elizabeth.

"Biggest brother hurt so he no good," Aidan pointed out. "But getting better."

"Slowly," added Will. "So, I would assume you know what happened?"

"You fell," replied Elizabeth.

"Pretty much," said Will.

"And you should be dead," added Elizabeth softly.

"And I don't know how I'm alive," admitted Will.

They sat quietly, thinking to themselves. Aidan eventually got bored with them not talking and only sitting in there so he left in minute or two. The teenagers continued to sit quiet. Will was pulling a curled piece of hair not looking at her. Elizabeth was also pulling at a strand of her hair not looking at him. Awkwardness was set between them and it was strong. Orion, at the foot of the bed, continued darting his eyes back and forth. His ears were perked and he was cautiously watching them both.

Everything seemed different between them suddenly. It shouldn't have been any different, but it was. Not only was Will seriously injured, but she was also pregnant. They were sixteen years old and knew they would become the talk of London. There was nothing better to do than talk about nobles' problems.

"It's going to be a long next six months if you two continue to sit there and ignore each other," Bill's voice said.

They looked up from their hair then at each other and turned away again.

"He should be dead and I'm pregnant. Of course it's going to be awkward," Elizabeth told him.

"I'm alive and you being pregnant isn't quite an issue as you are making it out to be. You need to relax. Once we figure out how to tell everyone and get the telling over with, you and I will have help. Once I'm healed, I'll get a job and pay for the expenses and we'll have a beautiful child. I can teach you all that you need to know. I am the oldest of four siblings and my cousins are tiny still. Everything will be okay until then," said Will.

"It's what's going to happen in between that I'm worried about," said Elizabeth.

"Me too," said Bill. "This may hurt a bit Will. Elizabeth, you are welcomed to stay in here and rest. It's going to be a few hours to get this done."

"Hours?" wondered Will.

"Removing the bandages. Taking care of the stitches if it is required. Cleaning the wounds before setting you in the water. Having one bath for cleaning and the other for relaxation because I don't think you want to rest in water with dead skin and blood in it. Scrubbing your body clean. Bandaging you again. Drying you," replied Bill.

Will and even Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

"I'll admit I do need to sleep. I always take naps in the afternoon," said Elizabeth, immediately finding herself crawling under Will's blanket.

Unexpectedly, Will felt an arm both slip under his knees and around his shoulders then he was lifted into the air blanket and all. He was bounced a little bit.

"You don't weigh enough you know that?" Bill asked as he left the room.

"That happens when one simply gets up one morning and decides to leave and let the voices of the earth dictate where he go. Food isn't always an option and I don't eat when I'm upset," said Will.

"I know, you're just like me in that regard," said Bill.

Uneasily, Will rubbed his right arm. He leaned his head into his father's shoulder as his eyes turned to his right leg. There was an usual amount of pain going right there. Since his knee was bent somewhat, and he was moving, blood must have been going through his leg and reawakening his body. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Something wrong?" Bill softly asked.

Will bit his lip before responding. "My leg really hurts."

"Your uncle had to cut into twice to mend it if that explains anything," said Bill. "And your knee was quite a bit bruised. It'll take time walking on this leg again."

"If I didn't have a broken arm I would be walking now," Will muttered.

"I heard that and I'm grateful that you cannot walk Little One. I know where I can find you if I need you or you need me," said Bill.

Will nodded admitting the words his father spoke were right. He leaned his head into his father's shoulder again and inhaled to sigh. Rather than inhaling, he pressed his nose further into his father's body. "You smell good."

"You don't," Bill told him.

"I know," replied Will with a cheeky smile.

The father carried his son into one of the bathing rooms. In the center of the marble flooring was the tub which thankfully was not above the flooring. He set his son on a pile of pillows, carefully lowering his leg on the ground. With help from his son, he pulled the blanket from around Will.

The teenager was hesitant when his father began unwinding the bandaging around his torso. He was uncomfortable about this entire situation. There were a few things his father didn't know about him that he had done while out in the world rebelling, one of which was on his right shoulder. As each layer was removed from his person, the pain on his ribs decreased. He was breathing easier without the pressure pushing against him. Curiously, his head lowered. He was right to presume that there would soon be a scar on his chest. It was not stitched so that was a good indication; however it ran parallel with the cavern that was holding his heart on his right breast. It looked like someone had placed it there to cut out his heart in all reality. The line was straight a first then tilted more toward his the center of his torso at the bottom. He had to admit it was going to be a fine scar.

Onward his father continued as he unwrapped the right arm. Like he thought, two flat pieces of metal the width of his arm. Both of them extended along his forearm from his elbow to the center of his hands. Cloth was bunched in the palm of his hand to keep the metal from rubbing and shifting in the space. After the metal was removed, the cloth was further unwound.

Will's eyes got a bit wider at the sight of his arm. A cut that was still stitched was along the entirety of his forearm and there were yet blue bruises dotting both sides.

"These definitely need to be replaced," Bill noted to himself. He poked skin to the side of the stitches. His eyes turned to his son as he heard will gasp and felt him flinch. "Hurts doesn't it?"

"It's not my arm I'm worried about," Will said, his eyes already on his leg.

Having to agree, Bill nodded. First of all, he carefully set the free arm on a towel. He scoot on the marble and took the teenager's leg into his hands.

"Ah!" Will softly cried as his ankle was set on his father's leg.

"I have to get these off somehow," Bill told him.

"I know," Will replied with teeth gritted.

"So, can I ask what brought on the mark on your belly?" Bill asked softly,

Will looked away guiltily. He moved his left hand across his body until his palm cupped and covered the small sun tattoo on the right side of his bellybutton. "I felt like it," he replied.

"And what about that dragon on the back of your shoulder?" wondered Bill.

"You know I've always liked dragons, and it's a Celtic dragon. If you notice, the Trinity is in the center of its wings and tail," said Will.

"I know. I noticed," said Bill.

"You're not happy with me are you?" assumed Will.

"About the tattoos or the six piercings you have in your ears?" asked Bill.

Will immediately brought his fingers to his earlobe. "I don't have any earrings in right now."

"I know, but I was the one that pulled them out," said Bill.

"Then you won't be pleased to know I gave myself the other five piercings," Will said softly. He screamed and leaned forward in the attempt to grab his father's hand.

Bill had Will's broken leg in quite a tight grasp. The normal soulful blue eyes were suddenly black and daggers were piercing his son's legs. He shook his head and couldn't help himself as he slapped Will across the face with his other hand. He less than gently removed the rest of the bandaging and pieces of metal keeping his leg supported.

All the while, Will was struggling to keep his screams in his throat and bit his tongue. He breathed in gasps and quick breaths. It was just two tattoos and five piercings. Tattooing was normal in the family. Every adult male had at least one tattoo—rather, at least two tattoos. Piercings were just the same. Two was the minimal number. Alexander had six piercings, three in each ear like him. Richard's back was one massive tattoo, although hardly anyone knew about that. Why was his father getting so upset over it? He was sixteen when he got them after all and clearly none of his piercings were infected so there was nothing to fuss over.

"Eww," he mumbled as he took a look at his leg. "How do I still have a leg?"

Along his calf, like he thought, there was gash; it went very near from his knee to his ankle. Black stitches kept the wound closed and the skin was becoming irritated. Dried blood was between the stitches and some blood spots ran across the line. Bruises surrounded most of his leg.

"And I don't know how you have leg. I don't know how you are alive," replied Bill honestly. "All right let's get you cleaned up.

"Leg last," Will declared.

And so Bill Turner began the painful task of pulling out the stitches, stitch by stitch and pressing hot rags with herbal remedies into the wound. He began with the two cuts on his chest. Those two were healed well, and stitches were not a priority since he still wanted his son's chest wrapped for a few more days at least. The herbs stung at first but then became cooling and comfortable. He suspected there was some sort of eucalyptus oil in there because of the refreshing feeling and the clean scent.

The same was done to his arm and his leg. For now, until after his bath was finished, he was to leave the stitches from his body so the thread wouldn't separate when he was soaking in the water. The herbs on his leg got him to scream and give a good hit to his father's face. Bill had to admit it wasn't a bad shot for the left arm, but not good enough because he didn't draw blood. Everything seemed to worsen when he brought a small knife from under a towel.

Will's teeth remained clenched and his head turned away as the knife was cut across the build ups of dead skin and dried blood. He felt the pieces slowly come from good, healthy flesh and pulled as they were torn away. Every new cut caused him to flinch and breathe through his teeth.

"Don't say anything," Will said.

"I'm not; I know how this feels," said Bill.

"Do I get any oils in my water or is it just water?" wondered Will.

"Only soaps for your hair washing and body cleaning and then I'm immediately moving you into the warm water to soak," said Bill.

Will gave his father a nod and realized the knife was on the floor and his father was rolling up his sleeves to past his elbows. He was gently placed in the water. Water surrounding the wounds and getting into his body stung and caused him to dig his nails in his father's arms.

"You'll be all right Will. It'll only hurt for a moment or two," promised Bill.

"Why is this happening to me? Why does everything bad always happen to me?" Will asked softly.

"Because you brought about your own problems Will," replied Bill.

"I know, but I just wish," said Will.

"Here, inhale," Bill told him, placing a glass bottle beneath his nose.

At first Will was hesitant for fear it was something other than vanilla oil, but the scent of vanilla did come into his senses. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. Comforted and the soreness of his body finally being relieved, he let go of his father's arm and sunk back into the water more. Fingers began massaging through his curls and rubbing into his scalp.

Rather than just rubbing through the messy curls, the fingers massaged in circles then slowly moved in directions. Off and on, they gently pulled out the knots and matted patches. His delightful comfort was ruined when a fine toothed comb was pulled through his hair. There was a bit of tugging and pulling and a few patches were removed by means of scissors. Bill promised him it didn't look as awful as he was thinking it did. Eventually, Will simply reached over for the scissors and simply cut away a huge chunk in the back and there was decided that it was just best to cut his hair short and let the curls.

In a few moments, Will was lifted from that tub of water and wrapped in a huge fluffy towel. He was carried to a different room, one that was smaller and riche with bold reds and ivory colors. Cabinets of oils lined one wall and towels on the other. A window was open and the warm summer breeze was blowing the scent of the flowers through the sheer red curtains. The tub was above the marble floor and steaming. He was lowered gently into the water. No aches or pains caused him hurt this time, although the water was hotter. In fact, the hotter water seemed to give him more relief. He rested his head back into the pillow.

It must have been comfortable for him because he sunk lower into the water until there was a small pocket of air between the water and his nose. His eyes shut. Slowly, he managed to sigh a little.

Setting the folded towel aside, Bill turned his head and stole a glance at his son. Will was comfortable; anything with eyes could see that. The sunshine through the red curtains was causing Will to have a simple, rosy glow on his cheeks, giving him the appearance of a more normal, healthy human. Looking at Will more, he saw his son had changed quite a lot since he was fifteen a year ago. He was taller and more muscular. For someone who ran out on a limb and did whatever, he kept up with building muscle. He was looking more like his father than his mother. Slowly but surely, he was losing that child appearance.

In fact, Will had lost the child appearance. There was not baby fat on his body; it was all muscle. His facial features were more prominent. He had two tattoos and six piercings. Losing the curls that were in his hair since birth, gave him more of a grown impression. He was going to be a father in six months.

Bill staggered to a chair in the corner of the room where he covered his mouth. His son did grow up. It took a year, but Will was grown up and he never got to watch his son grow up. He went from a child last he remembered to a young man who was sitting in the hot water.

Will opened his eyes. He turned his head and his face slumped. "Why is it whenever I'm not crying you are?"

"You grew up and I wasn't there," replied Bill.

"I'm only sixteen father. Almost seventeen," said Will.

Bill shook his head. "You lost the child appearance. The baby fat has turned to muscle. Your facial features have come through. Those curls that I have seen since your birth are gone. You have two tattoos and six piercings. I wasn't there to watch you get any of them or help you design. You're going to be a father in six months and you are already ready for it. I feel like I was never there in your life."

"Papa, come here," Will said. He stuck his hand out from the water and motioned over.

The father dragged the chair with him and sat beside the tub.

Will wet his hand then wiped each tear from his father's cheeks. He ran a wet finger below his father's eyelids. A smile widened across his face as he pulled out a few strand of hair. "I'm not the only one who is getting older."

In his son's hand, Bill saw a few silvery wisps that were yanked from his scalp. He shook his head and managed to chuckle a bit. Always like Will to make his mood shift from horrible to better. Ironically, it was always Will to begin his horrible mood.

"Yes, well if I am getting older because I have a few strands of white in my hair, then what do you call your grandfather?" he asked.

"Ancient," Will said confidently. "And Grandfather had white hair by the time he was forty and he's practically bald now all because of Alex."

Bill raised an eyebrow at that comment. He pointed to his hair. "I would choose your words a bit more carefully William."

Bad words indeed, as Will knew exactly that he was stressing his father like Alexander stressed Richard. All he did was shrug innocently and forced a smile.

"So, I have to ask you. What is your opinion of Elizabeth's situation that is yours now as well?" wondered Bill.

"I'm so ready," said Will confidently, a huge grin widening across his face. In just a moment, the joy faded as he slipped underwater more again. "And I'm so afraid."

"That's a relief," said Bill, brushing his forehead. "It wouldn't be right for a teenager to be completely ready."

"It's not that I'm afraid to be a father, I'm just afraid I'll mess up. When I couldn't deal Aidan, I could always give him back you or Mum and I know I can't do that. I know everything, but it's the thought that this is _my_ child and my influences dictate his or her life and I don't know if I'm ready anymore," said Will.

"It's because you're afraid to fail that you are," said Bill. "Those that fear the changings and feedings and sleepless nights and what other people will think are the ones who are not ready. Because you fear your influence on your child, not taking care of the child, you're ready."

"She's only sixteen and she's not the one who was expelled from school so it won't be odd when I don't go back," said Will.

"Like you two said, you'll think of something," reminded Bill.

"Can you tell Alex?" Will asked softly.

"I think you should do that on your own. You telling him face to face will comfort him and make him see that you still care for him and are ready to grow up now," said Bill.

Will nodded his head. He lowered his mouth in the water again and shut his eyes, telling his father he didn't want to talk anymore.

Taking that as a hint, Bill gently kissed his son's head. "I'll be back in half hour to get you out."

"Mm hm," Will whispered.

"Thank you for making me feel better about all of this," he whispered into his son's ear.

Will opened his eyes and turned to him. He smiled. "I'm your son. I'm supposed to give you hell on Earth and then suddenly give you a piece of Heaven."

"Aye," replied Bill. He poked Will's nose then gave him a kiss on the head again.

He left and firstly checked on Elizabeth. She was sleeping under Will's blankets calmly resting. He should have been worried about her but he wasn't. She was a strong young woman and never truly listened to the opinions of the world. Being born of noble blood she too learned to ignore everything. She would be all right. Not surprising him in the least bit, Orion was curled on his pillow looking at her closely.

With a sigh, he wandered down the hall and down the stairs and back down the halls and down the stone stairs and into the kitchen. Immediately, he walked across the room and down into the stone cellar where their alcohol was stored. He returned from the cellar with a bottle of scotch. Not bothering for a glass, the cork was popped off and he drank straight from the neck of the bottle. The drink was not just a small swig.

Alexander counted four swallows from where he was stirring his tea in the hot water. He was casually standing by the stove watching him. "All right what is it?"

Startled, Bill sputtered the alcohol across the room and coughed after involuntarily inhaling some of the scotch. He wiped his mouth. "Alex!"

"You don't just drink from the bottle for no reason," noted Alexander. "What is it?"

"Um," was all Bill managed to say.

"Is anything on Will's body infected?" Alexander asked, pushing from the counter and approaching.

"No, he's soaking in the water," replied Bill, corking the bottle.

"Good, he needed a bath. And you put the oil in his wound correct?" asked Alexander.

"Aye," replied Bill.

"So what is wrong then?" wondered Alexander.

Bill looked at him with fear and anxiety in his eyes. He flopped in the chair. Finally giving in, he slumped his head onto the table and beat it against the wood a few times. Although he rubbed his head from the pain, he needed to do that. Sometimes it was just necessary to beat one's head into something.

"My sister's not pregnant is she because I said no more after Aidan," Alexander said.

"She's not the one who is pregnant," replied Bill, knowing his brother would hunt him down and get it out of him eventually.

"Colleen isn't I know that," said Alexander.

"No," replied Bill.

"And who else do we know of who could be with child?" asked Alexander.

"Think about it for a second or two," said Bill, reaching for the bottle again.

It wasn't long before Alexander gently set his teacup on the table. He raised a forefinger to his brother and walked into the pantry. With a smile he shut the door.

Bill took another drink and listened to his brother cursing and played a game all the while. What was being thrown across the room now? He watched his brother emerge from the pantry while panting.

Alexander forced a smile at him. He sat beside his brother and took the bottle from his brother's grasp to finish it off. Groaning, he pounded his head into the wooden table.

"Elizabeth," he replied from the wood.

"Mm hm."

* * *

**A note from TurtleHeart: well, i bet you weren't expecting that coming. and for those of you who have read this far, i hope you enjoyed and i appreciate all your time. tell me what you think! until next chapter when the secret is revealed...**

**Happy Readings!**


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